The End of the Line
by Zenappa
Summary: Steve wasn't here anymore - it was just me and sometimes Natasha. Being alone definitely wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Everyone here thought of me as Captain America's sidekick, despite the fact that I recently saved he world from an alien attack. I never asked to be an Avenger. It was time to step up again. That was the price I paid when I joined SHIELD.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Guess who's back... back again!

YOU GUYS. We have reached the third installment of Marvel 2.0 holy crud monkeys! I couldn't have done this without you and everyone's support. Disclaimer, this one is definitely my favorite so far. You thought the plot twists and canon divergence was bad before? You ain't see nothing yet honey.

A huge welcome to my new beta who is the best grammar police and reviewer ever: SomeRandomHuman001! Welcome to the nut house, it's a wild ride.

I rebooted this due to my life changes and to make it more fair to you guys. Expect an update every Wednesday yay!

If you haven't read the first two novels in this series, I highly suggest reading them first so you're not completely completely lost. To all of my new readers, welcome. To all of my returning readers, welcome back. I've missed you terribly xoxo

The End of the Line Spotify Playlist: open dot spotify dot com /playlist/3otox4s9jNOJmKaom3en0u?si=S6hiPeFMTkC7WkuIEt-8_g

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**THE END OF THE LINE**

**PANDORA**

Update, I still hate planes.

If I had known how many planes I was going to have to continually jump out of when I signed on to become a SHIELD agent, I might have said no.

Okay, maybe that's not entirely true.

Take today, for example. I was in a bad mood when I woke up, and today was not the day to be cranky. After all, I was supposed to take the lead on my first solo mission. However, people pissed me off, per usual, and here I was: irritable and crabby.

I practically felt Natasha Romanoff breathing down my neck as I examined the screens in front of me, attempting to figure out our best course of action. She had way more confidence in me than I did in myself, and while I loved it most days, today was a different story. Today, if I didn't pull off this mission… well, I wasn't entirely sure what happened to agents who failed their final test to be perfectly honest. I didn't want to find out.

"What are the coordinates?" I snapped, tapping the LED screens in front of me rather aggressively.

The agents gathered behind me all turned to face each other, nervous to speak up around me. I spun around, raising an eyebrow as I got no response.

Finally, one of them stepped forward, clearing his throat anxiously. I wished I could remember his name, so I could make some sort of pun with it. "I'm afraid you're going to need to be a little more specific," he said slowly.

"What are the goddamn coordinates?" I retorted. "How about that?"

My headset crackled in my ear, and I resisted the urge to reach up and fiddle with it again. "Calm down, Agent Whitman," came the stern English voice I knew was watching my every move. "I'm sending them to you now."

I was still adjusting to having Peggy Carter back in our lives in this era, and so was the rest of SHIELD. She and I trained most of the new recruits over the past year, and while I mostly screamed at them, Peggy had done a number on them. They respected her even if she wasn't allowed out of SHIELD headquarters just yet. That was a lot more than I could say about myself.

"I'm sorry," I apologized to Peggy, feeling the connotation of the words heavier than ever. I had a lot to apologize to her for. I turned to where the agents were still staring into my soul, shaking my head. "I'm just a little stressed right now."

Natasha reached over and clapped a hand on my shoulder, beaming down at me. She was like a proud mother whose kid had just scored the winning goal. "You'll be fine," she reassured me. "You know, this is only the test that determines whether you're a qualified agent or not."

I took that back.

She was more like an older sister who was waiting to see when I was going to steal her Barbie dolls. Or in this case, her fancy Russian guns.

I shot a glare in her direction. "Really not helping."

"Hey," she said with a smirk. "You may already be a level seven agent, but I'm still your supervising officer."

"I wish Clint were still here," I responded just as quickly. "He would remind you what an ass you're being."

I turned back to the screens displaying my mission in front of me, shaking my head at Natasha as I did so. Tilting my head to one side, I read the coordinates of where the plane was taking us, still not comprehending what we would be doing in the middle of the ocean.

Before I could make another smart comment towards Peggy, however, Agent Rumlow stepped forward, folding his arms across his chest.

"Target is a mobile satellite launch platform called the Lemurian Star. They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them 93 minutes ago."

I wasn't sure how I felt about Brock Rumlow. From the first day that we met, he was nothing but dodgy. Still, he was a good agent, and for now, at least, he was on my side.

"Any demands?" I asked him.

"A billion and a half."

I wished I had a billion and a half dollars. And even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't give it to pirates.

"Why so steep?" I questioned.

Agent Jack Rollins stepped up beside his partner, giving Rumlow a sideways glance. "Because it's SHIELD's."

I raised a careful eyebrow. "So, it's not off-course," I observed. "It's trespassing."

"I'm sure they have a good reason," Natasha responded casually.

I suppressed an eye roll as I turned away from the agents gathered behind me. "You know," I said. "I'm getting a little tired of being Fury's janitor."

My earpiece crackled again, this time accompanied by a small chuckle. "What do you think SHIELD agents are, Agent Whitman?" Peggy commented.

I wished she was here so I could wipe the smirk off her face. Mark my words, she will never let me forget that she has outranked me since before I was born.

"Touché," was all I said, choosing not to start a fight today.

I felt a strong hand on my arm and glanced over to see Rumlow giving me a sympathetic look. "It won't be too complicated," he assured me.

Immediately shrugging out of his grip, I gave him a disgusted look. "I don't need your comfort, Agent Rumlow," I reminded him. "I need to smack some pirates in the face."

See, sleazy.

"How many are there?" I questioned, moving my gaze off of the shady agent in inquiry.

Rollins gave his partner another look before shifting his eyes towards mine. "Twenty-five top marks led by this guy." He paused, swiping the screen in front of me to the left, displaying a burly-looking man. Correction, an ugly burly man. "Georges Batroc."

"I know him," Peggy said through our comms. "He's ex-DGSE, action division. He's at the top of Interpol's Red Flag notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had 36 kills. Pandora, this guy has a rep for maximum casualties. You have to be careful."

"So now, you're worried about me?" I countered. Smirking, I turned to Natasha beside me, shaking a piece of red hair from my eyes. "Tell me," I continued, "why my test to become a full-fledged agent is an actual mission?"

"Hey, good news is that if you lead us to our deaths, we had a good run."

She really was the worst.

I rolled my eyes, although I couldn't keep a small smile from appearing on my lips. "Still not helping," I managed to spit out. "What about hostages?"

Glancing back over my shoulder, I made eye contact with Rumlow who was still looking at me like I was a piece of meat. Something was not right with that man.

"Mostly techs, and one agent," he said, reaching over my shoulder to swipe the screen in front of me again. A familiar face appeared. "Jasper Sitwell. They're all in the gallery."

Natasha frowned beside me, shifting her suspicious gaze to Rumlow. Thank God I wasn't the only one who found him shady. "What's Agent Sitwell doing on a launch strip?" she asked.

Rumlow and Rollins exchanged an awkward glance, and I had a feeling I was about to have a mutiny on my first mission. Clapping my hands together, I gained the attention back, breaking up the tension surrounding the agents around me. "Alright then," I said. "I'll sweep the deck and find Batroc."

"Are you sure you-" Natasha tried to interrupt, but I cut her off almost immediately, reminding her who was supposed to be in charge. The older sister needed to take a backseat today.

"My mission, Agent Romanoff." I paused. "You kill the engines and wait for further instructions. I have a feeling I'll need you on the ground. Agent Rumlow, you sweep aft, find the hostages and get them out using the life pods or whatever else you can find." I pressed a hand to my ear, making sure I still had my favorite English woman with me. "Peggy."

"Director," came her only retort.

"I'm sorry, that's still too confusing for me," I said, not answering her. "Be the eyes and ears of this operation. If anything goes wrong on your end, I want to know immediately."

"Already on it."

I turned to the less shady agent of the partnership, nodding towards him. "Agent Rollins, take the STRIKE team and do what you do best."

"Copy that," Rollins said, turning the rest of the agents around him. "You heard the lady. It's time to move out."

As the agents moved to their positions around me, I tried to calm my heart from beating out my chest, but right now, nothing was working. I couldn't fail today. I couldn't let all of this be for nothing.

I closed my eyes as I grabbed my gear, throwing on my backpack. I double-checked the parachute this time, trying to calm my shaking hands as I fastened the straps around me. Natasha snorted beside me, watching me steady my breath.

"Remember the first time you jumped out of a plane?" she asked, bringing up the exact memory I was trying my hardest not to recall.

"I'm still not too fond of it," I replied through gritted teeth.

She laughed harder as she swung her backpack on easily. Leaning against the wall of the jet, she let her laugh fade into a soft smile. "You know what they say, practice makes perfect," she countered.

"Only this time, if I don't get this perfect-"

She didn't let me finish my depressing train of thought. "Hey, don't think about that," she encouraged. "Seriously, you got this. I believe in you. These agents believe in you."

"Do they?"

I saw the way they all looked at me when they thought I wasn't looking. I didn't ask for this life, but here I was, the youngest highest-ranked SHIELD agent in history. I felt like a cheat.

I pushed the button to open the back of the plane, watching as the rest of the agents jumped easily, pulling their parachutes at the last moment to ensure a safe landing on the deck of the ship. Closing my eyes, I took another deep breath, barely hearing Natasha's response.

"You saved the world, Pandora. That counts for something."

It shouldn't.

I couldn't think about this now. It was not the time or the place if I wanted to do this.

Another deep breath later, I opened my eyes, forcing myself back in the present. As soon as I did, however, I saw the smirk on Natasha's face as she reached out with one hand and shoved me out the plane.

"Just in case you were worried!" she shouted after me as I free-fell towards the ship below me.

I barely even thought about the jump as I pulled my parachute, landing square on the wooden deck of the ship. Ditching the parachute, I glared in Natasha's direction as she landed directly beside me. "I really hate you," I spat, although there was appreciation behind my words.

Deep behind my words.

"Hey," Natasha replied with a shrug. "All you needed was a gentle push."

"I will never get used to that."

"I'm just trying to help."

I shot her a knowing look. Every time she tried to help me, it only made things worse. Okay, that wasn't entirely fair – in the long run, I wouldn't be here without Natasha. Not that I would ever let her have the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Secure the engine room and help me later," I said, shaking my hair out of my eyes.

Natasha laughed as she leapt over the nearest railing, heading towards her location. "I'm multitasking," she called out. "I'm your SO!"

Hey, I asked for it.

"Asshole," I muttered lovingly into my headset.

I laid eyes on a few suspicious-looking men in front of me, and I didn't even question before I sprinted over to them. The first one was down in a blink, never seeing me coming. The second, third and fourth men, however, took a few shots to the chest before they were down for at least a couple of hours.

I examined my gun in my hands, reloading it again as I leaned against a nearby pole. I had to thank Coulson one of these days for the ICE guns. They certainly came in handy when I wasn't busy battling aliens.

Stop.

Not today.

"Targets acquired."

I was never thankful to hear Rumlow's voice, but I was thankful for it at that moment. I needed to get out of my own head.

"STRIKE team in position," Rollins immediately responded, and I waited for Natasha's confirmation. It never came.

Frowning, I glanced around the pole I was hiding behind, seeing if she was in my view. She wasn't. "Natasha, what's your status?" I questioned. Still nothing. "Natasha?"

"Hang on!" I heard her call out before I heard a loud scrimmage in my ear. Wincing, I resisted the urge to pull the piece out of my ear. There was one more loud bang and then, Natasha was back. "Engine room secure."

I didn't dare breathe or move as I took in the moment. This was my mission.

"Okay," I said softly. "On my mark." I paused, taking another deep breath. "Three." Inhale. "Two." Exhale. "One."

I stood up, moving around the pole and towards the front of the ship as I heard a mixture of commotion in my ears. I couldn't see anything in front of me, and that worried me. I was expecting more of a fight.

"Peggy!" I called out. "What's happening?"

"I'm catching activity on the bow of the ship," she responded. "It seems Batroc is looking for an escape."

I immediately took off in that direction, thanking whoever was listening that the mission was going as planned so far. I was off to a good start.

"Well," I uttered. "He's not going to find one."

I was almost to the bow of the ship before I heard the piece crackle to life again. It wasn't the person I wanted to hear.

"Whitman."

I was proud of myself for not groaning when I heard Rumlow's voice.

"Romanoff missed the rendezvous point," he stated. "Hostiles are still in play."

"Get them off the ship!" I practically screamed at him, trying to catch my breath as I continued to run across the wooden floor of the ship. I was definitely going to have shin splints later.

I paused, leaning against the mast of the ship, searching for Batroc. "Natasha," I whispered. "Batroc's on the move. I got him. Circle back to Rumlow and protect the hostages."

Dead silence.

"Rumlow?"

There wasn't even a crackle.

"Peggy, what's going on? Anyone?"

I yanked the earpiece out of my ear, tossing it across the ship angrily. Stepping out of my hiding spot, I shook my head at the turn of events. "Dammit."

"And here I was expecting Captain America."

I spun around, angry at myself for letting the pirate sneak up on me. No one snuck up on me anymore. At the mention of Steve, however, my blood froze where it stood, my fingers twitching towards the gun holstered on my belt.

"I suppose you must be disappointed," I said casually as if Batroc and I were two friends catching up.

He took a few steps closer to me, letting his eyes flicker up and down my body as if he was assessing how I was planning on taking him down. I looked like an easy target, but boy, he was in for a fight.

"Are you stronger than the man with the shield?" he asked, trying to get a rise out of me.

It was working.

I tossed my gun to the side and held my fists in front of me. If it was a fight he was itching for, it was a fight he was going to get. My only hope was that he replayed this moment over and over in his head when he was in jail, regretting the moment he pissed me off.

I smirked, my muscles longing to be back in combat. "We shall see."


	2. Chapter 2

**PANDORA**

**ONE YEAR EARLIER**

When I was eighteen, I had my wisdom teeth taken out. They knocked me up with anesthesia, but they had overcompensated for my fear of dentists and gave me a much larger dose than I needed. I tried to eat solid food way too quickly even though I couldn't feel the entire inside of my mouth and bit right through my lower lip.

Stitches and all, I thought that was the numbest I could ever feel in my life.

I was wrong.

Shutting the door in Steve's hurt face caused the blood in my veins to turn to absolute ice. It had been almost twelve hours now, and my entire body still felt as heavy as rocks. The tears stopped falling from my eyes, but the salt crusted across my cheeks. I felt my cheeks grow redder and puffier by the minute, and I no longer cared.

I shifted in my seat on the SHIELD Quinjet, ignoring the urge to wipe my hands across my cheeks again.

Closing my eyes didn't help either. Every time I did, I saw the look on Steve's face over and over again. I heard his voice crack as I shut him out for the last time.

Natasha and Clint were sitting across from me, constantly exchanging glances with each other. They never looked in my direction, avoiding my eye contact entirely. I didn't blame them. If one of them showed up without the other with little explanation, I would be wary too.

If they asked me further what happened and why I did what I did, I wasn't sure I could explain it.

It all happened in a blur. Valencia had gotten in my head. The relationship between Steve and I had gotten out of hand. I was letting myself grow weaker, and while Emerald and Valencia found themselves, I had found… someone else. I was projecting myself from the man that I grew to idolize, the man that became my best friend.

And I left him behind.

I was only jolted out of my thoughts when I realized that the Quinjet had landed on the ground, and Clint and Natasha had already exited. Shaking my head, I emerged from the back of the plane and stopped in my tracks. I clearly had seen nothing yet.

In front of me was the largest government building I ever laid my eyes on. It was around the size of Stark Tower but completely devoid of any flashy devices and completely SHIELD. And it was about to be my new home.

"So," Natasha finally spoke, forcing a smile on her face as she looked down on me. "What made you change your mind?"

I sighed, not taking my eyes off the beautifully crafted building. "I already told you," I said softly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You do know that Steve was invited too, right?" she pressed.

Clint nudged me in the side, averting my gaze into his own. It captured my attention almost immediately. "Trouble in paradise?" he teased, but I could see that he understood. The gentleness behind his blue eyes said it all.

Still, I groaned outwardly.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" I retorted, letting a small smirk appear on my lips.

"Probably," retorted Clint with a shrug. "Come on, you're going to love it here."

As we entered through the main doors of the SHIELD headquarters, my breath caught in my throat as the room fell silent. Every agent in the room stopped what they were doing and stared directly into our souls.

Or at least, that was what it felt like.

The stares didn't stop as we passed them and moved onto the next room where the entire cycle happened again. This time, the agents leaned over and whispered to the person standing next to them, never breaking their gaze on ours.

I followed the trend, leaning over and whispering to Natasha as we moved into yet another room. "Is this normal?" I asked, keeping my voice at a low tone.

Natasha only smirked, exchanging a glance with Clint. "We saved the world," she said. "We're celebrities now. You better get used to it."

Shaking my head, I tried my hardest to look every agent in the eye before moving on. "I don't think I can ever get used to this," I admitted before I was ushered into an elevator to be silenced.

The entire ride, I felt the agents' gazes still in my head. They would have done the same thing as myself if they had the chance.

But they didn't.

I was the one who was transported to this universe from some other parallel universe. I was the one who volunteered to be a SHIELD agent to stay in the game. I was the one who chose this life.

The elevator dinged, signaling the opening of the doors, and I hesitated a moment while Natasha and Clint sauntered out. My muscles still felt frozen, but I was determined to shake it off. I chose to come here. I chose a fresh start.

And yet, I couldn't get the stares of all the agents out of my head.

Director Nicolas Fury was a sight for sore eyes, pun intended. The least he could have done was at least pretended that he was happy to see us. Instead, we got the cold one-eyed glare that usually donned his facial features.

"Well," he said, standing up from behind his desk. "The gang's all here. Took you long enough."

Natasha and Clint both glanced backward in my direction, and I stepped forward so I was in line with them. "My fault, sir," I commented, meeting his eye. "There were some complications that were taken care of."

Shoving my hands in my pocket, I prayed they would stop shaking. They said time heals all wounds, but judging by the pitying expressions Natasha and Clint were giving me, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Fury nodded once. "I trust you begrudgingly."

I pretended not to look as taken aback as I felt. "Alright," I said slowly, resisting a snarky comment back to my new boss.

"So, what's next?" Natasha questioned the director, folding her arms across her chest.

"Next?" I spluttered. "We just got here."

Fury didn't even hesitate. "Welcome to SHIELD, Agent Whitman," he said. "Here, we never sleep."

Sleep was the one thing I really just wanted to do right now. At least when I was sleeping, no one would be gawking over me or throwing me pity parties.

I threw my duffle bag on the ground with a huff, raising an eyebrow. I didn't need to say anything. I wasn't here to complain, at least not yet.

Fury turned to Clint, handing a stack of files. "Agent Barton, there's a task force waiting for you," he said. "Accompany them to Iceland."

"Is Iceland the cold one or the green one?" Clint immediately responded. "I'm never quite sure."

Fury just ignored him. "There's a SHIELD threat there that you need to take care of," he countered, gesturing to the file. "Your team will update you on the flight."

"Roger that," the archer said with a slight nod.

"What about me?" Natasha snapped, not even letting Fury move onto the two of us.

"You two are separable from each other, right?" the director bit back, but I could see the small smile on his face. Maybe things weren't going to be so bad, after all.

Natasha rolled her eyes, making a clear face of disdain, before grabbing her partner's hand and squeezing it gently. "Be careful," she whispered.

"Can't promise I won't be stupid."

I let the two of them stare at each other for a moment longer before I decided to ruin the mood. I didn't need another memory of two partners saying goodbye to each other. "I'll see you later, Clint," I commented with a slight wave of my hand.

Clint released Natasha's hand, and raised his own hand in response. A second later, he was gone. I had no idea when, if ever, I was going to see him again.

"And what about us?" Natasha repeated her question from earlier, turning back to our boss.

"Agent Romanoff, you're with me. Agent Whitman, Agent Carter will show you to your quarters and give you your orders."

It took a moment for the name to register in my system. A second later, I blinked twice, moving my head forward to make sure I had heard Fury right. "Wait, Agent Carter?" I repeated.

Fury only chuckled as he sauntered out alongside Natasha, leaving me staring after them in confusion. There was no way he could be talking about-

I found the ability to breathe again when a taller blonde woman, fully clad in a SHIELD uniform, entered the room not a moment later. She nodded to Fury and Natasha as they left me completely alone in the office.

"Director. Agent Romanoff."

A smile crossed her features as she turned back to face me, not at all surprised to see the dumbfounded expression on my face. She didn't look or sound like the Peggy Carter I knew, but I experienced far weirder concepts on the daily now.

"Agent Whitman, I'm Agent Carter," she introduced herself, holding out a hand for me to shake.

I took it slowly, my eyes narrowing. "Agent Carter," I repeated, scolding myself for sounding like a five-year-old learning someone's name.

"Sharon Carter," she added with a laugh. "Because I've seen that look on your face too often."

I released her hand a moment later, shaking my head in disbelief. I supposed it ran in the family, if she was even related to the famous first SHIELD director.

"Sorry," I babbled, taking a step back. "I'm Pandora, not a terrorist."

Sharon let out a trill of a laugh, and I immediately knew we would get along just from the refreshing smile on her face. Apparently, it wasn't illegal to smile around here, after all.

"You're funny, I like you," she responded. "You remind me a lot of my aunt."

Okay, definitely related.

That was not the first time I was compared to Peggy either, and I wasn't entirely sure what to interpret from that. It also brought up the terrible memories of this morning once again. I definitely wasn't ready to handle that.

"Okay, Agent Carter," I said, changing the subject completely. "What's the plan?"

"I'll give you the grand tour of the place, show you where you'll be staying, and then you can get started," she replied matter-of-factly.

I wondered if, in the future, I would become as hardened as all of the agents seemed to be around here. I wasn't sure if I was ready to lose a part of myself just yet.

Just another part of growing up, I had to remind myself.

"Get started?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Sharon actually had the audacity to smirk in my direction. "Your first task," she responded with the most ominous tone she could muster.

"Why do I have the feeling that I'm not going to enjoy this?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

She waited until we found ourselves down a random hallway before springing the news on me. "You're the new trainer of recruits," she announced.

The statement caused me to stop dead in my tracks.

"You're kidding, right?" I asked, although a part of me already knew the answer to the partially rhetorical question.

She wasn't kidding.

I never felt less wanted in a room than I did at the moment I sauntered into the training facility. From the few agents that actually met my gaze, I felt nothing but resentment. It wasn't like I asked for this either.

"Alright," I announced, forcing a grin on my face. "Hi guys, I'm Agent Whitman, but you probably already knew that."

One of the agents folded his arms across his chest as I spoke. "Agent Whitman, how old are you?" he retorted, his gaze raking me up and down.

That wasn't going to fly with me.

"Agent, what's your name?" I questioned, keeping my cool.

"Kiss my ass."

I inhaled and exhaled quickly to calm my rising temper. I wasn't going to let these assholes get to me. I couldn't.

"Alright," I said, looking around at the rest of the room. "As I was saying, I'm Agent Whit-"

The jerks wouldn't even let me finish.

"How long have you been an agent?" another agent questioned, raising her eyebrow in my direction.

I paused my sentence reluctantly, but I didn't even entertain her question. They were just looking for excuses not to trust me.

"Well," she continued as if I actually answered. "I've been an agent for six years, and I'm only level three."

Another agent stepped up beside her, a matching smirk on her face. "I've been an agent for two years, and I'm still level one," she added to her friend's remark.

"Listen, I didn't ask-" I tried to interject, but I guessed that they moved past the stage that they required an answer from me.

The first female agent laughed out loud. "It's Pandora, right?" she mocked.

"That's Agent Whitman to you."

"I don't care," she retorted, causing me to blink twice in her direction. The level of disrespect was not what I signed up for. "I'm twice your age. Why should I listen to you?"

It seemed I was going to have to play bad cop today.

Clearing my throat, I positioned myself in the center of their self-proclaimed circle, my hands placed on my hips. If I demonstrated a position of power, they would have no choice but to listen. I blinked again, returning my facial expression to a neutral expression. I was always told I had resting bitch face, and right now was the first time that it actually came in handy.

"My name is Agent Whitman, as I already said," I uttered only after they all fell silent. "I am 25 years old. I am level five only because I needed clearance to access files for the Battle of New York. I may have only been an agent for about six months, but I'm here. I didn't ask to be. I was ordered to be in this room, same as you, so I suggest we start working together so we can all get out of here quicker. I don't want to demand your obedience. If you want this job, you have to earn it."

Another agent stepped forward, his eyes demonstrating no sense of comprehension. "Why should we trust you?" he asked.

That was not the question I was expecting.

"Other than I just saved the world, you're welcome by the way," I said, rolling my eyes. "You shouldn't. As a matter of fact, the first rule of being a SHIELD agent is to not trust anyone, even yourself."

"What's stopping us from leaving?"

The secondary question stopped me in my tracks, and I turned around to face the agent who asked the idiotic inquiry. It was like they zoned out for my entire speech. If it were up to me, they all would be fired on the spot. Unfortunately, it wasn't up to me.

Typical.

"Nothing."

For the first time, they seemed surprised by my answer. I took that as a small victory.

"When you're ready, I'll be here," I added, sitting down on a nearby chair. "But don't expect me to be waiting forever."

Apparently, I still chose the wrong words. I was the last one to be surprised when every single agent walked out of the room without a word to each other. Whether it was a sign of protest or a sign of idiocy, I had no idea.

One thing I was sure of, however, was that it was going to be a long few weeks.

* * *

Spotify Inspiration: Beautiful Crime - Tamer

[Full Playlist Link located in the beginning of the first chapter.]


	3. Chapter 3

**PANDORA**

**NINE MONTHS EARLIER**

Life at SHIELD headquarters barely improved. The only win I had going for me was the fact that the recruits somewhat listened to me now. A few of them quit, a few of them graduated to a higher program, a few of them left the program to join another division, but they still all remained in training. They hated me every second.

Natasha had her own routine, and while we still sparred almost every day, it wasn't exactly what I was expecting when she said she was taking me under her wing. However, I wasn't really sure what the job of a supervising officer was anyway. The training was enough for now. It gave me more incentive to kick the new recruits' asses.

"Again!"

I clapped my hands together as I observed Agents Durham and Jones sparring on the floor. They were clearly just going through the motions, not paying attention to where their body parts were actually landing. If this was a field op, they would both be dead in seconds. I almost guaranteed it.

They had the audacity to glance at me in clear surprise when I halted them from their session.

"You two are sloppy, go again," I repeated, waving my hands in front of me.

Agent Jones took a step back, shaking his head. "I kicked his ass!" he protested.

"And yet, it was sloppy," I recited. "Again." Both of the agents opened their mouths to argue with me, but I was in no mood today. "What did I say?" I asked before they could retort again.

To my credit, they actually started to train again. At least, I did one thing right. I learned how to command respect, even when they hated it.

"When did you become such a hard ass?" Agent Durham questioned once he was knocked down to the ground again.

I rolled my eyes from my position on the side. Of course, they would blame it on me. "When you made me into one," I replied sarcastically. "We could have had fun together, you know."

Agent Bukhari scoffed from the sidelines. "I wonder what fun looks like," she remarked dryly. Boy, I wished I had the patience to ignore these imbeciles.

"I call this a waste of my time," Agent Yin added onto his partner's statement.

My patience was officially at zero.

"Alright, that's it," I said, clapping my hands together and gesturing for everyone to gather in the center of the room. "We need to have a chat."

Agent Bukhari hit Agent Yin in the side, making a face. "Look what you did," she accused, but if she seriously thought it was his actions alone that set me off, they were stupider than I realized.

"Since day one, you all have been nothing but ungrateful towards me," I stated. "I don't care if I'm younger than you. The bottom line is that I was assigned to train you. If you want to progress here at SHIELD, I suggest you start listening to me. Who better to take advice from someone who moved up the ranks quickly?"

I was being way too nice to them.

"With all due respect," Agent Jones piped up, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "You moved up the ranks by cheating." I raised an eyebrow but said nothing. If I simply waited for his response, I hoped it would end with me punching him in the face. "You had to," he added with a shrug. "You got swooped into this program and the Avengers because you were in the right place at the right time."

He wasn't totally wrong. The ass-whooping would be later.

"I don't deny that," I said honestly. "But I worked to my fullest potential and trained every single day since I met…" My words died in my mouth. "Since I even considered coming into this program. That's a whole lot more than I can say about any of you."

"Saying you saved the world is an understatement."

I didn't even see the agent that spoke in the crowd that was gathering, but his statement was holding a lot of approval amongst the others. They were all nodding.

"You had Iron Man and Hulk at your side, after all," Agent Yin added.

Folding my arms across my chest, I debated sending them all home for the day, or permanently, but they needed to learn a lesson. "We all did our part," I replied. "It was called a team for a reason."

"I would have killed for the opportunity-" Agent Jones started to say, but I wouldn't even let him finish his thought.

He was single-minded.

"No," I interrupted, gritting my teeth together. "I never want to hear you say that again."

Agent Jones didn't seem to notice the dark demeanor that entered my face within a moment's notice. He had no idea of what the war did to me, or to anyone else, for that matter. He just wanted to be a hero at the end of the day, and that was exactly the reason that he would never make it in SHIELD. I knew that without question.

"What?" he questioned, taking a step away from me. "That I would have loved to fight as an Avenger, something you obviously take lightly-"

Once again, he talked too much. I kept my promise to myself from earlier and clocked him straight in the cheek. He doubled over in seconds, causing me to stand back and stare at him. It wasn't until he stood up, noticing my hardened expression that he seemed to recoil back into his shell.

"I said, I never want to hear you say that again," I repeated as my chest constricted in on itself. "None of you have any idea what it's like to fight outside of these walls. None of you have any idea what it's like to face death every second, come face to face with an alien, figure out how to survive against your enemy when you have no options left. You can say that you would be stronger than I was, and maybe you would be, but you weren't there. So, I guess we'll never know, will we?"

For once, I shocked the agents into silence. I took that as my cue to continue.

"I want you to succeed, believe it or not," I added, sighing my words out. "I may not have much advice, but boy do I have experience. So, you can either start learning from whatever I have to teach you or get out. And let's be clear, if you walk out those doors again, so does your future as a SHIELD agent. Take your pick."

This time, no one walked out the door.

A small smile crept across my lips, relishing in the uneasy and stunned expressions I saw around me. That was the fear that I felt my first few days as an agent too. It was finally something rewarding.

"Well?" I asked. "Are we ready to train?"

They all nodded in complete unison. Whether it was because they were scared to cross me again or because they actually wanted to improve their technique, I didn't question it. One win at a time.

"Good. Again."

I had a feeling my good mood was about to be ruined when I exited the locker room adjacent to the training facility and found two agents standing there. Groaning, I knew there was only one reason that two perfectly good agents would stand around, waiting for me to exit the area. I was being summoned.

When I made up to Fury's office, I tried to put a more pleasant expression on, but there was too much flitting around in my brain to process a smile. I was half-angry and half-pleased from my session with the recruits today, and a part of me wondered how tomorrow would go.

"Director Fury," I said sternly with a nod as I finally entered the room. "You called for me?"

Fury glanced up from where he was standing in the center of the room, glancing me over with one eye. "Actually, Agent Coulson did," he remarked, stepping aside to reveal Phil standing next to him.

Okay, my good mood was officially restored.

"Agent Whitman," Phil greeted me with a nod as he spoke.

I immediately darted over to his side and wrapped my arms around him in a hug. I hadn't seen him since leaving New York, and while I knew he was constantly flitting about these parts, I knew he had bigger and better things to do than hang out with me. Besides, I was dreading the same question everyone kept asking me.

"Phil!" I exclaimed, taking a moment to soak in that I had one friend back at my side before I realized who I was standing in front of. Clearing my throat, I separated myself from Phil, trying to seem more professional than I was. Who was I kidding, no one around here would use the word professional to describe me.

"I mean, what can I do for you, Agent Coulson?" I clarified.

Phil only chuckled. "I need your help on a project of mine," he said nonchalantly.

That was intriguing. "What kind of project?" I questioned.

"Classified."

"My favorite."

Phil gestured towards the door, taking his leave from Fury's side with a nod. I mimicked his motions, my mind already running a million miles a minute about what Phil might want. Now that he wasn't dead, he had endless possibilities ahead of him. I was really glad he wasn't dead.

Another thought stopped me dead in my tracks as I turned back around to face Fury once more. "Does this mean I'm out of trainee duty?" I asked, my hopes soaring.

If he said yes, this was going to be the official best day ever.

"Not a chance."

"Damn it."

I kept my mouth shut until we reached the elevator, riding it down a few levels. In all honesty, I was ecstatic for a change of scenery. Training the recruits and being trained by Natasha was a full-time job, but that wasn't what I signed up to do. I signed up to help people again, even when my hands shook thinking about it.

"So, what's going on?" I finally asked, refusing to let my brain to go to darker places.

He glanced sideways at me with a small smile, and I knew that he was just as excited as I was about this project of his. "I'm putting together a team," he said mysteriously.

"A team?" I repeated, raising my eyebrow. That was not exactly what I thought he was going to say.

"Agents not confined by SHIELD rules, dealing with aliens and all of that."

That was the most casual way I have ever heard someone talk about aliens. Phil never ceased to impress me.

"And this is because of New York?" I asked, practically begging for answers.

He smirked again. "Partly."

"I'm not going to get another answer, am I?" I verified my thoughts aloud.

"Not today."

Another concept froze my body where it stood in the elevator, even as the doors dinged open. "Are you asking me to join your team?" I asked, hating the way it felt on my tongue. I only hoped that Phil didn't notice my heartbeat quickening at the thought. I wasn't ready for another team, and I had no idea how to say no. The word just wasn't in my vocabulary.

To my relief, Phil laughed. "No," he replied, not picking up on any of my cues. "Trust me, no one would get any work done if you were on the team."

I followed him, pursing my lips together and tilting my head to one side. "I'm not sure whether I'm offended or not," I said honestly, thinking about his statement.

"I need your help choosing a team," he responded casually as if we were talking about what we wanted to eat for dinner. With him, I knew the answer was always Chinese though.

Still, this entire situation was new and fresh, something I sorely needed.

"I already asked two scientists," he continued. "And I've asked them to meet you here."

"Wait," I clarified, causing both of us to stop again. "You're really trusting me with this?"

Phil's gentle smile was all the answer I needed. Since arriving at SHIELD three months ago, trust was not a concept that was taught around here. No one trusted me, and in turn, I didn't trust anyone else. It was a mutual concept.

"I trusted you with Steve," he observed.

To my surprise, I didn't freeze at his name. "Aw Phil," I crooned. "You do have a heart."

He threw me an exasperated look, and I grinned. It was my duty to annoy him almost as much as I used to. Luckily for him, we were both on the clock.

"Oh, here they are," Phil commented, relief shining in his voice. He turned to me a second later, a warning sign present across his features. "Stay calm, they're a bit of a handful."

I barely had time to consider his words before the two agents swarmed me like I was a honeycomb and they were bees. I blinked rapidly at the pair, trying to get a sense of who I was working with here. They both looked extremely ecstatic about the entire situation, the excitement just bubbling out of their skin.

"Agent Coulson!" the woman scientist blurted out, grabbing his hand and shaking it twice. "Thank you so much for this opportunity!" She turned to me a second later, her mouth falling open in shock. "Oh my goodness, Agent Whitman," she exclaimed, freezing in place. "It's such an honor. You're a legend around these parts."

A legend.

That was a new one. My brain immediately went back to the first day arriving at SHIELD headquarters with Natasha and Clint, the hundreds of agents applauding our arrival. I felt lighter than air that day, but the feeling faded. For the first time since arriving, I felt that same way again. I felt useful.

The other scientist stepped up beside his partner, touching her shoulder to stand down. He seemed to be the calmer of the two. "I think what my partner is trying to say is that it's really nice to meet you," he said with a smile.

"Likewise," I echoed, holding out my hand for one of them to take. "Please, call me Pandora."

He shook my hand almost instantaneously before pulling away and pointing to the female scientist next to him. "Jemma Simmons," he introduced.

Simmons pointed back at him, mimicking his actions. "Leo Fitz," she replied.

I had to smile at their gestures. "Well, aren't you two cute?" I said aloud, unable to help myself.

"Been working with him since the Academy," Simmons added, a tiny grin appearing on her cheeks as she glanced in Fitz's direction.

If they weren't dating, they should be. They were perfect for each other. With a pang, I realized that was how everyone used to view Steve and me.

Not anymore.

"The Academy?" I questioned, diverting my brain back to Simmons's topic.

"Right, I forgot you kind of skipped that," she said after a moment's pause. "Well, if there's anything we can do for you, please let us know."

I shook my head, unable to comprehend the amount of cheer oozing from her body. It was almost too much for me, and that was saying something.

"I think I should be saying that," I responded. "It was a pleasure meeting both of you."

Phil rested his hand on my shoulder, and to be perfectly honest, I almost forgot he was standing there the entire time. Simmons fangirled over me too hard, and all other thoughts were completely lost.

"Meet me in my office at the end of tomorrow," he stated. "If all goes well, you'll have the rest of the team."

I laughed, shaking my head. "No pressure, right?" I asked, biting my lip in apprehension.

Fitz sent a wave in my direction before he and Simmons sauntered away in the opposite direction, their foreheads tilted together in another rushed conversation. I wondered if they knew how to do anything else besides talk at the speed of light.

I definitely needed to find people who could not only handle the pair of them but offset their balance on the team. In other words, I had my work cut out for me.


	4. Chapter 4

**PANDORA**

I barely noticed when the sun rose in the sky. My eyes were burning from reading files after files for hours on end. To be perfectly honest, I had no idea how long I was sitting in one position until the knock on my door came.

Blinking a few times, I tried to get my bearings. I squinted at the clock on the wall, but I couldn't even see the position of the second-hand. Perhaps Tony was onto something when he claimed he got more done when he suffered from insomnia than not. With a pang, I reminded myself to give Emerald a call when I had a moment to breathe.

I missed my Avengers friends.

"Agent Whitman? Are you there?"

The voice jolted me back to reality, and I immediately dismissed my earlier thought about sleep deprivation. Sleep was a human necessity and one that I needed to acclimate myself with sooner rather than later.

I swung the door open a second later, tripping over the several boxes I brought back to my room to examine. Still, I smiled in Phil's direction, forcing my brain to turn itself back on when I laid eyes on him.

"How many times have I told you to call me Pandora?" I scolded, gesturing for him to enter my quarters.

I frantically shoved some boxes and files out of the way with my foot, trying to make a path to the desk where I was currently focusing on my last two files. Most people would be embarrassed by the state of their messy room, especially when a colleague wanders around, but that was never a priority to me. If they can't handle me at my worst, they didn't deserve my best.

However, I knew I was at my worst more often than not.

"You have something to show me?" questioned Phil.

While I didn't see his facial expression as he glanced around the room, I recognized the shock in his voice. It was clear that I had been busy. In my defense, I wasn't given a lot of advance warning.

"Yeah, actually, two somethings," I said, scooping up the two files on my desk and handing them over to Phil. "I spent the majority of the night looking."

Phil's requirements were pretty strict, and it was easy to sift through the bad eggs. There were SHIELD agents tasked to follow orders and commands, and then there were… SHIELD agents. Those were the ones willing to go the extra mile, the ones who volunteered to be on the front lines, and that was the kind of agent I was looking for. The only other problem was aliens.

There were a lot of SHIELD agents who publicly denounced SHIELD's involvement in the Battle of New York and whatever the future holds. The world became aware that other planets, gods, and aliens existed in less than twenty-four hours. There still were some that believed SHIELD operated on human operations only. From what Phil and I discussed earlier, that was not what I was looking for.

That was what made the task hard.

Phil flipped through the first file, skimming through the facts and reports I documented separately. He nodded his approval, tucking the first file under his armpit before opening the second. He barely caught a glimpse of the picture before he immediately shut it and handed it back to me.

"She's retired," he said blatantly.

I raised an eyebrow in his direction. "You haven't even asked," I stated, my suspicion rising.

Choosing Agent Melinda May out of the other qualified veteran agents wasn't a coincidence that her past overlapped with Phil's. As much as I loved Phil, I knew what he was like. He needed someone at his side to keep him in check, and it just so happened that she happened to be another Natasha. Her qualifications were off the chart.

"I know her," Phil continued to argue.

I folded my arms across my chest, refusing to let him off the hook so easily. "I also read that you two have a history," I observed.

"It was a long time ago."

I wasn't buying it.

"You said you needed a pilot," I pointed out, trying to reverse the topic back on her clear credentials.

Phil held my gaze for a moment longer before snatching the file back from my hands. I grinned as he rolled his eyes in exasperation. A part of me knew he was only doing it because I wasn't going to let him leave the room without at least considering the option. Still, I considered it a win in my books.

"I'll think about it," he said, shaking his head. "Find your other recruit and tell him to meet me in my office by the end of the day."

Oh, that was definitely a win.

Finding Agent Grant Ward wasn't a problem. He was practically a protégé since joining SHIELD, not unlike myself, and someone knew where he was at all times. Not to mention the concept that at least half of the female agents were fawning over him when I questioned his whereabouts. I was less than thrilled to meet him face to face.

My tune changed as soon as I actually did meet him face to face.

I spotted him from across the loading dock, exiting a Quinjet. He looked as every bit as qualified as his file made him out to be. He was almost too perfect. At least he lived up to the expectation in the looks department.

Not that I was paying any attention, of course.

"Agent Ward!" I called out towards him, having to shout over the roar of the Quinjet still powering down.

He headed in my direction when he saw my raised hand, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"Hey, look who it is," he said, putting on a charming grin. "The famous Pandora Whitman."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure whether to be impressed or offended," I said honestly, shielding my eyes from the sun with one hand. He really was tall.

"Perhaps a bit of both," Ward commented with a smirk. "I just got back from a mission in Haiti. What do you need?"

"It's not really what I need," I replied, shaking my head. "Agent Coulson wants to speak with you."

He raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down as he did so. I wished that I had missed it. "In regard to?" he inquired.

"A team of sorts," I said. "Well, actually, I found you for him. You're a damn good field agent, something he needs right now."

A smirk crossed over Ward's face a moment later as he tossed his bag further behind his back. "You aren't so bad yourself," he commented, and I knew the compliment was loaded.

Two could play at this game.

"I have to be when dealing with flirts like you," I responded almost instantaneously, an equal smirk shining across my lips.

I took great pride in watching Ward's face fall ever so slightly at my retort. I was definitely not what he was expecting. I loved surprising people.

"Guilty," he finally uttered, holding one hand in the air in a sign of surrender. "I'll go meet Coulson and join his team or whatever, but only if you have a drink with me."

This time, it was my turn to be surprised.

"You just met me," I replied.

"Officially," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "It's just a drink, Whitman."

He was right, but that didn't help the uneasy feeling that was creeping up in the pit of my stomach. I wasn't used to guys trying to flirt with me. Normally, I was the tomboy who strived to be as strong as all of the boys were on the playground. In this playground of SHIELD, however, apparently that was a turn-on for everyone around here.

"I'm only twenty-five," I tried a last approach to push him away.

Ward didn't buy it. "Yeah, and I'm twenty-nine," he said. "Are we playing the age game here?"

"Fine," I huffed, narrowing my eyes towards him. "One drink."

I spun on my heels and walked back in the direction of the elevator, my entire body itching to get off of the loading dock as soon as possible. Perhaps it was because I wasn't used to people flirting with me and meaning it, but something did not sit right with me.

When I opened the door to Phil's office an hour later, I calmed myself down. I wanted to hear what he thought about Ward before I made any other recommendations. Phil needed a good field agent, not necessarily a righteous man.

"What did you think about Agent Ward?" I asked, not even bothering with a knock or a hello.

Phil glanced up from where he was shuffling through papers, a neutral expression on his face. "I think you picked an excellent candidate," he said matter-of-factly. "He certainly had a lot to say about you. He was definitely disappointed that you weren't joining the team too."

Of course, he was.

"Really?" I said, pretending to look more shocked than I felt.

"Have you two ever met before?" he questioned.

I shook my head. "Just today."

He got up abruptly, holding up Agent May's file towards me. I smirked at the disappointment on his face, but a part of me was relieved that he took the time to reconsider his earlier actions. Mostly, he probably just wanted to prove a point.

We walked wordlessly side-by-side through several different hallways until reaching a long row of cubicles behind a closed door. I wasn't even sure what department this was, but it certainly wasn't tactical by any means.

"This is where Agent May works now?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow. I hadn't scanned that part of her file yet.

"Unfortunately," came my only response with Phil.

I opened my mouth to ask what exactly went down between the two of them, but I never got the chance to voice my thoughts aloud. Something told me it was another Pandora and Cap situation. Referring to my own situation in third person made it sound a lot less realistic. I liked it that way.

"Agent May," Phil called out as soon as we approached her tiny desk.

May glanced up for one second, laid eyes on the two of us, and immediately returned her gaze to whatever she was stapling on her desk. "No," she said in the driest tone of voice I ever heard.

"That's what I thought," Phil retorted, turning to me with an I-told-you-so expression on his face.

I refused to give up that easily.

"He didn't even ask you a question!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air in exasperation.

May shifted her gaze onto me, her forehead crinkling in confusion. "Who's she?" she questioned. I tried to ignore the disgusted look on her face.

"Agent Whitman," I introduced myself, holding out my hand for her to take.

She didn't.

May simply looked at my outstretched arm and glanced back at the paperwork on her desk. "Right," she responded. "How could I have missed the red hair and the optimistic personality?"

Today seemed to be the day of backhanded compliments.

"Uh, thank you?" I said, ending my voice in a question as I shoved my hands back in my jacket pockets.

"I just need a pilot," Phil uttered softly. He probably felt bad for me.

May shook her head, shoving her chair back from her desk and folding her arms across her chest. "I'm done, Phil," she commented, the annoyed appearance on her face growing by the second.

Well, that was certainly surprising.

No one called Phil "Phil," except for me. It was always Coulson or Agent Coulson around here. I knew there was something deeper between the two of them.

I raised my eyebrow towards Phil, a smirk crossing my features. He did his best to ignore me, but I felt the irritation radiating off of his skin. He knew he was going to get interrogated by me later.

"I just need you to drive the bus," he pleaded, handing her the case file. "It's a really nice bus."

She narrowed her eyes until they were almost slits, glancing between the two of us before finally snatching the file from Phil's hand. "I'll think about it," she finally remarked before turning back to the work on her desk.

"There's a meeting in my office tonight," he concluded, ushering me towards the door. "I hope to see you there."

I waved in her direction, not sure how to address her anymore. "Uh, nice meeting you," I said, hating how my voice cracked. A second later, we were out of the cubicles, and the air immediately felt less tense.

"Phil?" I questioned, unable to hold it in any longer.

Phil rolled his eyes. "I told you, we've worked together before," he stated, desperate to put an end to my inquiry into their past.

"Oh, that is certainly more than that," I observed. "The tension in that room was actually palpable."

Phil threw me one last exasperated look before entering the elevator and shooing me off. He had work to do, and so did I. Playtime was over.

The bar that Ward requested my presence at was one right around the corner from the Triskelion headquarters of SHIELD, but I hadn't even known it was here. Drinking beer was low on the totem pole list of priorities as an employee of SHIELD's. I was just trying to survive until the next day.

Still, when I sauntered into the dive bar, I felt a wave of nostalgia for my former life wash over me. Gone were the days that Emerald, Valencia and I would visit each other, closing down bars at the early hours of the morning. Those days weren't coming back. I had to focus on the present.

I spotted Ward right away, hidden in the back corner of the bar. I plopped myself in the seat next to him, signaling to the bartender to pull me a draw of whatever was best on tap. It wasn't like I was much of a beer expert.

Ward raised his eyebrows in my direction, taking another glance over at my appearance. He wasn't going to see much, I made sure of that. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show," he observed, taking a small sip of the beer in front of him.

"I promised you a drink, didn't I?" I retorted with the coolest tone I could muster.

A smirk crossed his lips, and I was genuinely concerned for what came out of his mouth next. Not concerned for my sake, more so for his when I put him in his place.

"Do you always keep your promises?" he asked.

See, I was right.

"That's a tricky subject," I replied, keeping the tone neutral.

"Is it because you left your Captain behind?" he pressed, causing me to clench my jaw. "Was that a choice or an order?"

I couldn't tell if Ward noticed my demeanor stiffening at the mention of Steve, but his smirk said it all. He knew which buttons to press to get to me. I wasn't the only one who did research, it seemed.

"It's none of your business," I snapped, hating the feeling I got when he got under my skin. It was clearly his intention, but it still bugged me.

He tilted his head to one side, his eyes burning holes into mine. "Touchy subject, I see," he added. "We all have those."

If this was a staring contest, I definitely would have won. Just saying.

"And what's yours, Agent Ward?" I inquired as calmly as I could for someone who wanted to punch someone else in the face.

"My family."

I wasn't expecting him to answer.

I took another sip of my beer, nodding slowly as I tried to regain my sense of lucidness. His interrogation about Steve really threw me off, and I needed to stay on my game and sober if I was going to make it through this one drink.

"Alright," I finally said, turning to him with a nod.

To my surprise, he had the same look of anger passing across his eyes that I had moments earlier. It seemed, for once, Grant Ward was telling me the truth.

"We're not talking about it," he barked back at me.

"Alright."

We both lapsed into silence for another minute, allowing my heart rate to return to normal. Now that I was level-headed again, I felt better about the man sitting next to me. Being broken felt normalized again, and for once, I wasn't the only one with a burdening secret.

"So, Pandora, what can you tell me about yourself?" he broke the silence, shaking his head back to the present.

I wasn't the only one lost in my own thoughts.

"Probably everything you already know," I responded honestly, shrugging my shoulders. Our earlier conversation hadn't exactly put me in a speaking mood.

"Then why don't we just skip to the end of this conversation?"

I knew exactly what he was insinuating, but I still leaned back against the chair with my arms folded across my chest. I was not in the mood to pretend flirt.

"And what's at the end of this conversation?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ward only shrugged his shoulders, turning his attention back to the drink in his hands. I let out a bark of a laugh a second later at his reaction, earning his gaze back on mine in surprise.

"You know, I was told to watch out for the older agents hitting on me," I commented. "But I have to say, I wasn't expecting you."

He pondered whether I was giving him a compliment or not for several seconds before he pushed the comment aside, chugging the rest of his drink and signaling for the bartender to pour another.

"And who told you that?" he asked, genuinely sounding intrigued.

"Agent Romanoff."

I wasn't going to lie. Besides, she had a tougher reputation than I did around SHIELD. If Ward was smart, he would stay far away from the both of us.

"She's your SO, right?" He continued his line of questioning, determined to get some news out of me that he hadn't read before today.

I shrugged nonchalantly, copying his actions. "And one of my closest friends," I uttered, setting my empty beer stein on the bar. "And you are fortunate enough that we can both kick your ass if needed."

Smirking, I got to my feet, swinging my jacket around my shoulders once more. Judging from Ward's expression, this was not how he was planning for the night to go. Just another day in the life of a female SHIELD agent.

"Thanks for the drink, Ward," I said, tapping the back of his chair. "Maybe we'll chat again sometime."

I headed out the door of the bar before he could get another word in. He had done enough talking to last me a lifetime. I had no doubt that he would be a viable asset to Phil's team, but if I ever heard from Grant Ward again, it would be too soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**PANDORA**

**SIX MONTHS EARLIER**

I was feeling pretty good about myself after Phil reported back that his team was working together successfully. I was finally off recruit duty, and I was back to training full time with Natasha. Things were looking up for me at SHIELD.

I definitely jinxed myself by thinking that.

Fury found me in the hallway, his face as serious as ever. I, on the other hand, donned a large smile across my cheeks, feeling lighter than air. As soon as Fury's gaze locked onto mine, however, I immediately felt the sinking feeling appear in the pit of my stomach.

My day was about to take a turn for the worst.

"Agent Whitman," he said, stopping directly in front of me. "A word."

My mind instantly wandered, thinking about everything I had done since speaking to the director last. As busy as I was, I hadn't done much that required reprimanding. At least, I didn't think so.

"What is it?" I questioned as soon as the two of us were alone. "Is it about Phil's team?"

Fury gave me a concerning look that clearly said I had no life. I wasn't offended. Phil's project was my baby. If anything went wrong, it was partly my responsibility.

"No, nothing of the sort," he said, shaking his head. "Agent Coulson and his new team are doing just fine."

I nodded awkwardly, feeling out of place in the office we were standing in. "Alright," I uttered slowly. "What can I do for you?"

"I've been informed that you haven't turned in your report for the files of the Battle of New York."

Oh.

I glanced down at the ground, averting my gaze from Fury's as much as possible. "I wasn't that involved-" I tried to argue, but of course, with Fury, arguing never turned out well.

"You were an Avenger," he said, throwing me an irritated glance.

At the word, a chill went through my entire body, sending goosebumps rippling across my skin. My breath caught in my throat, and my hands immediately went clammy. I frantically shoved my hands in my pockets, trying my hardest to push the involuntary reaction from my mind.

I was fine, or so I kept telling myself.

"I don't want to think about that," I replied softly, daring to glance up into Fury's eye.

"It's an honor," Fury pointed out, tilting his head to one side. "What are you so afraid of?"

That was not exactly the word I would use. "I'm not afraid," I retorted.

"Then, fill out the damn reports," he snapped, shocking me out of my stupor. "Your best friend turned out to be a terrorist. Do you really think we don't want to hear what you have to say?"

I knew he was right, but the harshness of his tone was like a slap in the face.

"Understood," I responded, nodding slowly towards my boss.

There was nothing else to say except acceptance.

I made my way out the door, my chest heaving from the shallow breaths I was inhaling. It was amazing how quickly my day went from good to bad, just in a single conversation about nothing life-threatening. For my mental stability, however, it was everything.

As soon as I shut the door to my room behind me, I slid down the wall, burying my face in between my knees. I heard the gasps of air I was inhaling and exhaling at a rapid pace, and I willed my brain to slow the rate of oxygen intake. I wasn't about to pass out on the floor of my bedroom here.

"Not now, Pandora," I whispered to myself, practically begging my system to get itself in check. "Please, not now."

It wasn't in the mood to listen to what I wanted.

My hands weren't the only body parts shaking after several minutes of silent tears falling down my cheeks. Every time I thought I was getting better, something triggered me and sent me free-falling back over the edge. It was a never-ending cycle, and the worst part was that I couldn't tell anyone.

If anyone knew, my career at SHIELD would be over before it even got started.

I needed to pull myself together. Right now, the only way to do that was with a clear and present distraction.

Glancing up from my knees, I all but shoved myself to my feet, my eyes determinedly set on the television set in the corner of the room. Sharon warned me when she helped me move in not to set it up, since SHIELD agents were only allowed to interfere when Fury commanded it, but I, of course, didn't listen. I hadn't turned on the TV to her credit but all I needed was a remote and I was in business.

My hands still shaking, I managed to stab the power button on the missing remote, watching with satisfaction as the screen flickered to life. Sighing, I sank down on the edge of my bed, letting my mind wander to the news happening outside these walls. After six months, it was easy to forget life outside these walls even existed.

"Oh, how I missed you cable news," I said sarcastically, forcing my brain to think about something else, rather anything else, than the topics Fury brought up in our impromptu meeting.

However, with each passing news clip, I was beginning to realize why Sharon warned me not to even bother watching the news. Every single clip was about crime, devastation, climate change, everything terrible in the world. I wanted to help the best I could, and even when it felt like I was making a real difference here at SHIELD, I barely scratched the surface.

It wasn't until the next news clip that sent me over the edge.

"… And as we mentioned previously in the hour, this is top breaking news," the news anchor was reporting. "The Mandarin's latest attacks involved the CEO of a top tier oil corporation and most recently the President of the United States. His latest target is now none other than the Iron Woman herself, Emerald Maitland."

If my anxiety was bad before, it was nothing compared to how I felt now.

Dropping the remote at my feet, I shot to a standing position, my heart hammering in my chest. Before I could even consider making a move, however, the news anchor gestured to the screen behind her, playing a clip on repeat. I immediately cursed myself for not seeing this earlier. This was my best friend we were talking about.

I didn't recognize the terrorist speaking on the screen, but in my defense, I was a little cut off from the rest of society. The irony wasn't lost on me.

"America," he droned, his voice sending chills down my spine. "I see your hostilities have grown weaker. Allow me to provide you with incentive."

He moved to the side, revealing Emerald strapped to a chair with an IV of some red liquid shoved up her arm. I was going to kill this bastard.

"Your precious Iron Woman has threatened my existence for far too long," he continued, pacing back and forth behind Emerald's chair. "The Extremis that fills her veins will only continue to weaken her until her insides collapse. And if anyone wishes to challenge me any further, especially you Tony Stark, you know where to find me."

I watched Emerald's eyes widen at the mention of Tony's name. "No, Tony-" she tried to say before the Mandarin slapped her across the cheek, shocking her into silence.

"You have twenty-four hours until my reign begins," he threatened before the TV switched back to the news anchor. I wasn't even paying attention to what she was saying anymore.

Yet, I made up my mind in a split second.

I sprinted down the hallway, not even bothering to close the door behind me as I stumbled into the side walls. Ignoring the stares from the agents that passed me, I tried my hardest to control my breathing despite my racing heart. I had a friend to rescue.

When I made it to the weapons room on my floor, I frantically piled guns and rifles together, sorting through them until I found the parts I needed.

"Hey, Agent Whitman," I heard Sharon's voice appear from across the room. "What are you up to?"

Her sing-song voice irritated my soul at this very moment, and I wanted nothing more than her to disappear into thin air. I had a different priority right now.

"Sharon, please, now is not the time."

Apparently, I was terrible of convincing people to leave me alone. Sharon grabbed my shoulders, spinning me around until I faced her, gun parts still in my hands.

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded, her eyes darting down to my hands and back up to my face. "You're putting that gun together like a rookie."

Tears started streaming down my face involuntarily, and I practically threw the parts to the side in an effort to rid myself of the evidence. "I just saw the news," I managed to say. "And… and I have to go after her."

Sharon paused, putting the pieces together in a split second. "Are you talking about the Mandarin?" she asked, the truth dawning on her. "SHIELD already ruled off on that-"

I wasn't going to let her finish her statement. I didn't give a crap what SHIELD wanted us to do or not do.

"You don't understand," I said. "He has her… Em… He has Em. I have to save her."

"You can't," she responded, grabbing me by my shoulders and physically shaking me. "Are you listening to me? SHIELD ruled off on it. Stark and Maitland made it their priority and therefore, if we involve ourselves, it will only get messier."

I didn't want to hear any of this. All I wanted was to kill the Mandarin myself.

"I'm not going to stand back and let her die," I protested.

Sharon shook her head, giving me a knowing look. "Neither is Tony, I bet," she said. She made a good point. "She's going to be fine. She can handle herself."

My mouth opened and closed several times without any words appearing from my lips. My brain was flying through words faster than my mouth could actually move, and while this wasn't the first time this happened, it felt worse than before. I felt helpless.

That was not why I joined SHIELD.

Sharon quite literally shook me out of my thoughts a second later. Something told me that she knew exactly how I felt. "You can't," she continued, her hands tightening the grip on my shoulders. "Promise me that you won't do anything stupid. It's breaking SHIELD protocol."

If I went against SHIELD orders, I would be kicked out of SHIELD before I even had the official badge to prove it. Deep down, I knew she was right.

Even if it was really really deep down.

As I slumped to the ground in defeat, I felt the tears wet against my cheeks. I barely even noticed I was crying in the first place, but I wasn't surprised. My entire body was so numb that I wasn't even sure I would feel a gunshot wound at this point.

"Was this your first time watching the news since coming here?" Sharon questioned, kneeling down at my side.

I nodded once, my eyes still focused into the palms of my hands.

"Well, you're not doing that again," she commented with a slight chuckle. I knew she desperately wanted to say, "I told you so," but I was glad she refrained from doing so. I wasn't in the mood to punch someone.

At least, not today.

The next few days were a blur. Between Sharon, Natasha, and the recruits, I barely had a moment to myself to think about what I almost jeopardized for Emerald. To be fair, I was pretty sure she would have done the same thing for me. Still, I knew I had to hold my ground.

This wasn't our world anymore. We had to adjust, no matter the cost.

The cost, as it turned out, was my sanity.

I was back to training the recruits off and on when they requested me, but a few days after the Mandarin ordeal, I needed to blow off some steam of my own. Only when I knocked a few of the trainees to the ground, I didn't see them laying at my feet.

I saw Emerald and Valencia lying dead at my feet, their blank eyes staring back at me.

I was officially losing my mind.

Emerald was safe. Tony was safe. Valencia was safe. Steve was… well, I wasn't entirely sure about Steve.

"What the hell is happening to you, Whitman?" I scolded myself, practically knocking the front door off the hinges as I darted outside to get fresh air.

Washington D.C. was not nearly as cold as I wanted it to be this time of year, but I still stuffed my hands in my pockets to keep them from shaking. These days, shaking was the only thing they knew how to do.

I blamed what happened next on that.

A click sounded from behind my head, and I froze where I stood, recognizing the sound instantaneously. It was the sound of someone pulling back the trigger of a gun.

I cursed myself for not paying more attention to my surroundings. Clearly, I was followed, and I should have been able to pick up on that.

"Go in that alleyway now."

Her voice was familiar like one I heard in movies before, but I barely had time to think about who the mystery person might be. I was a little more concerned about whether she was going to shoot me or not. For that reason alone, I kept my hands in my pockets, my right hand still wrapped around my gun.

"What do you want with me?" I questioned as I moved slowly into the alleyway that she pointed to. If I was about to engage in a fight, I definitely wanted answers first.

She didn't even hesitate, making me question her credibility even more.

"Take me to Steve Rogers," she drawled. "You're his girl now, aren't you?"

There was that name again.

I heaved a heavy sigh, not in the mood to spill my internal secrets. "I wouldn't consider myself his girl in the way that you're implying," I said softly, distracting the intruder from what I was about to do. "But…"

I trailed off, whipping around in the middle of my sentence and knocking her gun out of her hand. Taking satisfaction in the way it scattered across the concrete, I smiled, drawing my own gun from my pocket and pointing it towards her. In that split second it took me to pull my weapon, however, she reached in the back of her pants and yanked out her own gun, matching the one from earlier.

"Agent Romanoff trained me," I said, keeping my aim at eye level. She didn't budge either. "But you aren't too bad yourself."

"I know who you are," she responded, her gun never wavering.

I tilted my head to one side, doing my best to analyze her movements. From the way she reacted, she was definitely government issued. If I had to guess, she was probably military trained, recruited to join the agency after her tour. Still, there were a lot of agents out there, myself included, and if she knew my history, I was clearly a target for some reason.

"Funny," I retorted, trying not to display my confusion. "I don't know who you are-"

I broke off a second later as I took a step in her direction, letting the moonlight wash over both of our faces. When I saw hers, however, I felt a chill wash over my skin, and it had nothing to do with the nonexistent wind.

I knew her.

Not personally, but I knew her. We all did.

"Holy shit," I swore, recognition dawning on my face. From the smirk she gave me in response, she was expecting this reaction. "Holy shit."

Shaking my head, I refused to believe that I was seeing things clearly. I lightly tapped her gun with my own, making sure that she wasn't a figment of my imagination. Update, she wasn't.

"Give me a second," I croaked out, shifting my gun to my non-dominant hand and pulling out my cell phone. I thanked God I had my contacts on speed dial for I definitely wouldn't be able to do anything with the way my hands resumed their shaking.

Emerald picked up on the second ring.

"What the hell, Dora?" she asked, irritation hitting her voice. "Do you know what time it is here?"

It was the middle of the night, yeah, but this was a classified emergency.

"I used to live in California, thank you very much," I retorted, never taking my eyes off of the person standing before me. "We have a slight problem."

She sighed from the other end, and I heard her shifting where she was sitting. I figured she was moving into another room to not wake Tony.

"If only you knew what just happened to me over the past couple of weeks, I think we can deal with a slight problem," she said. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I already knew everything that happened already, or at least, the concept of it. "We fixed the movies. What's the issue now?"

If only she knew how wrong she was.

"We didn't fix the movies," I whispered in a low tone of voice, unable to say much of anything else.

I could almost hear Emerald's exasperated expression from the other end. "Of course, we did," she said. "What are you talking about?"

"Maybe we fixed a single movie, but I don't think this is supposed to happen."

"You're not making any sense," she snapped. "Slow down."

I hadn't realized how rushed I sounded until she told me to slow down. I was so consumed in getting a second opinion about what was happening to me that I didn't even think about how I sounded. The panic was creeping back in my system.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to collect my thoughts before I said anything else. "There is a gun pointed to my head by someone who is supposed to be dead," I finally said.

"What!"

Mission not accomplished.

"Wait, Emerald-" I attempted to explain, but she was already frazzled by my words. Whoops.

"Pandora, where are you?" she exclaimed, her voice rising in alarm, before she pulled the phone away from her ear, trying to get Tony's attention. "Tony! We need to go!"

This was definitely not what I wanted to happen.

"No, no, no," I quickly spit out. "I've got it handled. I have a gun too, but that's not the point."

"Then, what is the point?"

The person standing before me was growing irritated by the second. I no longer felt that she was going to shoot me in any way. There was no doubt in my mind that she needed me alive to accomplish what she wanted to accomplish.

"I don't think this is supposed to happen," I murmured, my eyes burning holes into the woman before me.

I really didn't mean to be as cryptic as I was sounding, but words weren't really working for me right now. To be fair, I had a good excuse.

"What?" Emerald questioned sternly. "Why not?"

Another inhale and exhale passed through my system in one last attempt to slow my heartbeat. There was no other way to beat around the bush. The secret was out.

"Because I'm staring at a living, breathing, very young Peggy Carter."

Emerald paused on the other end of the phone. "You have to be mistaken," she replied after a second.

"I'm not," I practically moaned. "Trust me, I wish I was."

She let out a long sigh, causing static to erupt in my ear. I held the phone slightly away from my face, waiting for her to collect her thoughts. This was almost too much to take in.

"Jesus, Dora," she finally responded. "Do you know what this means?"

"I'm trying not to think about it," I answered honestly, raising an eyebrow in Peggy's direction.

Judging from the annoyed expression on her face, I was running out of time. This was no longer just a portal between our former world and this one. This was officially crossing into time travel territory, and if there was anything I learned from films growing up, time tended to mess back.

"Are you alright, Em?" I blurted out before she could respond. I felt like a jerk for not asking sooner. "I saw you on TV and… and they wouldn't let me come to you."

If Emerald was smiling her typical reassuring smile, I wouldn't know.

"We're survivors, all of us," she said softly.

I bit my lip. "And what about Tony and Rhodey and Pepper?" I asked, afraid of what the answer would be. We were in uncharted territories now.

There was dead silence from Emerald's end of the connection, all but confirming my worst fears.

"I'll explain it all later," she finally said, heaving another sigh. "What about you?"

I wasn't in the mood to play catch up, and I doubted Peggy was down for a lengthy conversation.

"I have to deal with this now," I retorted, hating how dry my voice sounded.

"Please call me later," Emerald begged. "I… I'll work something out."

There was so much more I wanted to say to Emerald, so much I wanted to explain, but I knew I didn't have the time. Right now, I had a very angry former SHIELD director pointing a gun at my head, and I wasn't sure whether to be terrified that she was going to shoot me or terrified that she wasn't.

After I tucked my phone back in my pocket, I tilted my head to one side in her direction, waiting for her to make the next move. I wasn't going to aggravate things further.

"I want to see Steve," Peggy repeated, her gun never wavering from its position.

I hesitated for a split second before dropping my ground tucking it back in my belt loop. "Uh, yeah," I said slowly, demonstrating the sign of surrender. "I'm one of the good guys, okay? There's no need for hostility."

Slowly, Peggy followed my lead, dropping the gun to her side reluctantly. "I needed to be sure," she whispered, and for the first time, I saw raw fear on her face.

Like I had felt when I was first transported into this world, I had no idea where to turn next.

"Follow me," I said softly, flashing a tiny smile in her direction before I took off in the direction of SHIELD headquarters. If she wanted an audience, an audience was what she was going to get. I just knew she wasn't necessarily going to be happy about who it was with.

My only hope was that no one in SHIELD would recognize her.

"Try and blend in, alright?" I pleaded as we headed deeper into the compound. I knew it was a lost cause from the start, but it was worth a shot. Maybe she was good at blending in, even if she was the former founder of this entire building.

Yeah, this definitely wasn't going to go well.

I didn't bother knocking before I opened the door to Fury's office, announcing myself with the slam of the glass door against the wall. All of the agents in the room turned their annoyed gazes in my direction, but I only had eyes for Fury.

"We have a situation," I announced bluntly.

He barely glanced up from whatever he was looking at. "Agent Whitman, you can wait outside," he scolded. "I will finish up with you when I am done."

"I'm sorry, sir, but this is an emergency."

Not only did I actually call him sir, I used the E-word. If Fury didn't take me seriously now, then he was not as smart as I remembered.

"What happened?" he questioned.

I quickly glanced around at the now curious agents in the room, analyzing their status in a split second. This was not how I was going to tell the rest of SHIELD that the original founder and director was alive and standing outside this door.

"I'm not at liberty to say," I responded with a pointed glance in the other agents' direction.

Fury was intrigued, and that was exactly where I intended to keep him. "Excuse me," he apologized to the agents in the room before following me outside the glass doors. "Alright Whitman, what in gods' name-"

He didn't even have to finish his sentence.

He saw her from a mile away.

"There's no way," he breathed out, halting his movement.

I turned my back to Peggy, facing Fury with an equally concerned look on my face. "She wants to see Steve," I whispered. "I didn't think that was such a good idea."

"Absolutely correct," Fury murmured in reply. "Besides, I didn't think you and the Captain were on such good terms."

"We're not."

At least, I was being honest for once.

"She found you?" Fury questioned, his eye trained on Peggy as if he was afraid she was going to disappear if he blinked.

I nodded. "In the middle of the street, tried to kill me too."

"Same old, same old."

Fury pushed past me, approaching Peggy from the side and resting one hand on her shoulder. She glanced up in surprise, recognition immediately dawning on her face. "Agent Fury!" she exclaimed. "You look… different."

That was the understatement of the century.

"Actually, it's Director now," Fury responded, holding out a hand for her to shake. "I would say it's a pleasure, but given the circumstances…" He trailed off, not really sure how to explain present day.

"What is all of this?" Peggy asked, glancing around at the hustle occurring in the different rooms on the floor.

Fury actually smiled, and I documented the exact moment. I was never going to let him live that down. "This is SHIELD," he explained. "This is what you created."

Peggy accepted his hand, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet and guided down the hallway. Fate was on my side, it seemed, for no one seemed to bat an eye in Fury's direction as the pair made their way away from the public eye. It was only a matter of time before the secret was out, and when it was, I knew I would be at the center of it all once again.

I heaved a large sigh as I watched them leave. Running a hand through my red locks, I tried to not think negatively on the situation, but there was no situation where this ended well in my head.

"Oh yeah, this is not going to end well."

* * *

**A/N: **HELLO WORLD. I am so so sorry for leaving you for two weeks. It was not exactly what I had planned, but life seems to get in the way. I recently moved to Florida and between packing, moving and starting my new job, it took a lot more out of me than I realized. But I am back now and ready to rock and roll with this story! Major major thanks to my beta Some Random Human for sticking with me and being the best fangirl ever. Enjoy the chapter xoxo


	6. Chapter 6

**PANDORA**

**THREE MONTHS EARLIER**

"Mierda."

That was the exact word that erupted from my lips as I stepped off the plane back on American soil. After spending several weeks in Madrid, that was still my favorite word to use. Today, however, I was using it for a completely different reason.

Natasha was standing at the foot of the plane, her arms folded across her chest. I held a hand over my eyes to block out the sun as I hopped off the platform, swinging my bag over my shoulder.

"What's up?" I said, forcing a smile on my cheeks.

She raised an eyebrow in my direction. "How was Spain?" she questioned.

"You know, when I thought about my first time in Spain, I wasn't expecting to hide around corners in random villages the entire time," I pointed out.

I was definitely expecting my first mission outside of base to be exciting, but instead, I was stuck on surveillance. Not that I was complaining, I was just… complaining. I was itching for action again.

"You'll get over that real fast," Natasha commented with a small chuckle, lightening up when she heard the sarcasm in my voice. "I trust you'll fill me in during our session later."

I paused in my tracks, throwing her an exhausted look in return. "Nat, I just got back," I said.

All I had been thinking about on the plane ride back to D.C. was a hot shower and a long nap. I hadn't gotten either while I was abroad. I was dying for a hot dog too. I made a mental note to never make fun of Tony's food cravings again. I know how it felt.

"The more we train, the faster you don't need me anymore," she retorted.

I hated how right she was.

"You're ridiculous," I chose to spew back instead, rolling my eyes. As much as I loved hot dogs, I loved being a SHIELD agent more.

Natasha smirked. "Us redheads have to stick together," she stated, tossing her hair to one side. There were clear times I forgot she was also a natural redhead, judging from the amount of times she dyed her hair undercover.

I heaved a large sigh, rearranging my priorities in my head as we continued our walk inside SHIELD headquarters. Shower first, then a hot dog. A nap could definitely wait until after our training session.

"Oh," Natasha called over her shoulder as she headed in the opposite direction of the building. "And someone isn't too happy with you."

I froze again. "Who."

"I think you know who."

"Why, why, why!" I exclaimed, throwing one hand in the air. My day was definitely not going as planned. "Where is she?" I asked after a loud groan emerged from my lips.

"Lower level training facility," Natasha answered a second later. "She took over your job while you were gone."

That was at least one bit of good news.

"She can keep it," I snapped as I U-turned and made my way back to the elevator.

It seemed hot showers and hot dogs were not happening anytime soon.

Hearing the shouts of Peggy Carter from behind closed doors wasn't alarming in the slightest. In fact, I expected her to be much louder. If she could shape up the recruits, it would be a miracle, but then again, I knew what Peggy used to do in the army. She was perfect for the job.

I swung open the door to the training area unannounced, dropping my bag at my feet and observing the scene before me. Peggy was stalking circles around the trainees as they sparred with each other, shouting discouraging remarks at them every five seconds.

"Come on, Agent Carter," one of the recruits tried to complain, but I immediately knew that was going to end well.

Sure enough, Peggy smacked the agent over the head a second later. "I'm still the Director," she snapped. "Pay attention to your peers. You might actually learn something."

I wasn't sure if I snorted at her remark or the utterly defeated looks on the agents' faces, but either way, it cut through the dead air in the room. Peggy's head swung around to meet my gaze, and I nodded in arrival. There was no smile back in my direction.

"Oh, boy," I muttered under my breath, already dreading the conversation ahead.

Fury made a general announcement to the SHIELD community about Peggy's return about a week after I found her on the streets. It was top of the line classified information, and I figured the only reason it hadn't gotten out yet was that the lower-level agents were in awe that they were being trusted with such a large secret. It was so idiotic, it was brilliant.

"You're dismissed for the day," Peggy shouted at the recruits, sending them scrambling out of the room without even a glance in my direction. I bet they missed me right about now. "I expect better results tomorrow."

I shook my head, watching the last of the group exit the room. I was severely impressed with Peggy's skills, but I was not impressed with the current look she was giving me.

"I heard you wanted to see me," I finally said, unable to take the silence any longer.

She nodded once, pulling over a chair from the side of the room. "Yes," she stated, gesturing for me to sit. I didn't. "We need to have a little chat."

"Can it be a quick chat?" I retorted, giving her a sickly-sweet smile in return. "I have a meeting with Nat, and-"

"Sit down, Agent Whitman."

The tone of her voice caught me off guard, and I immediately shot my ass in the chair that she yanked over. Even though she didn't have her Director status anymore, I still saw her as one.

"You can call me Pandora, you know," I pointed out, trying to lighten the mood.

It didn't work.

"Very well Pandora, you cannot call me Peggy," she responded with a smirk of her own.

Typical.

"Touché," I said. "Although you did almost kill me, so I think you owe me one."

Peggy raised her eyebrow cautiously, and I instantly regretted making any sort of comment. I was opening a can of worms. "I don't owe you anything," Peggy retorted. "If anything, you're the one who lied to me. You said you would take me to Steve, and yet, here I am trapped."

"You are hardly trapped," I argued, but it didn't make a difference.

Pandora's Box had been opened. Literally.

"Under the watchful eye of SHIELD agents that I practically birthed, unable to leave the facility to risk my identity being seen," she listed. "I would consider that very trapped."

I didn't blame her. If I were in her situation, I would go crazy too.

"Believe it or not, it's for your own good," I said solemnly.

"I don't need protection."

That much, I knew. I would never be able to get the image of her pointing a gun at me out of my head.

"No, you're right," I responded. "You don't. The rest of the world needs it from you."

That seemed to shock her right into silence and exactly where I wanted her.

Peggy shook her head, leaning forward as if she hadn't heard me correctly. I knew she had. "I beg your pardon?" she questioned.

"You're dangerous," I replied. "You're a SHIELD agent who just happens to be the founder of the entire thing. You're a world known icon. And you're also supposed to be either a senior citizen or dead."

"Straight to the point, are we?" she snapped, not enjoying where this conversation was heading.

She summoned me down here to talk on her terms, but I didn't play by the rulebook. I had terms of my own, and boy, were we covering them.

"I have to be if you won't listen," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "If anyone sees you alive and as young as you are, there's no telling what could happen."

Peggy paused, her gaze softening the longer she stared at me. She needed someone to speak to her like a normal person without all of the bullshit, and while I knew this wasn't exactly the direction she was counting on, I saw the respect in her eyes. I had it too.

"Are you any closer to figuring out how I got here?" she asked.

I shook my head, glancing down at the ground. "I've been in Spain for a month," I said softly, wishing I had better news for both of us. "I'm not the person you should be asking."

"You're one of the only people who I can talk to," she murmured. "Everyone else either treats me like a fragile object or an alien. Perhaps I am."

"You're still the same badass Peggy Carter that I know-" I started to say before I cut myself off. "Well, read about." Good save, Whitman. "You just have to show people instead of, you know, installing fear into the new recruits," I added softly.

Luckily, she didn't choose to comment on my addition. "Why do you have so much faith in me?" she questioned.

I was instantly transported back to the moment that Steve first compared the two of us. I hadn't wanted to admit it until now, but he was right.

"Because you're pretty much my idol," I replied sheepishly. "I wanted to be just like you."

"Why?"

I gave her a steel gaze, wanting her to believe in what I was saying. "Despite the odds, you were the hero," I said honestly. I had watched The First Avenger way more times than I cared to admit, and she was always my favorite. Sometimes, I had to pinch myself that I was standing here talking to her.

"I was never the hero," she responded softly, dropping her gaze.

"You were to me," I said. "And that's why we're trying to keep the peace."

Peggy pulled up a chair, sitting next to me wordlessly. "Why isn't Steve with you, Pandora?" she asked after a moment.

The involuntary freezing of my system came immediately after, much to my dismay. I knew it wouldn't be long before my hands started shaking. I sat on my hands, shifting slightly in my seat to make it less noticeable. Still, Peggy noticed.

"I don't know how much you were told about our history," I responded slowly, trying to make sense of the words before I said them. "But it's not worth recanting. Not like yours."

"No, I want to know," she cried, the stern tone creeping back into her voice. Sharing time was over. "I want to know why I'm being held prisoner like this."

I turned my head to the side, my jaw clenched as I stared at her. She needed to get this through her head before I lost it. "Peggy, I can't," I retorted. "Not just because I don't have the clearance. I physically can't." I held her gaze for a moment longer before we both dropped our sight to our laps with a sigh.

"What happened to you?" I whispered, letting the hushed tone linger in the air.

Peggy didn't hesitate, to my surprise. "I was helping Howard with some files late one night," she said. "I got in my car, started the engine, and began to drive home. I guess I never made it because the next thing I remember, I was tied to a chair in your time period. The television screen was blaring in front of me, telling me the date, the time, a news clip on the Avengers, current events I couldn't even fathom. No one was there except for me." She paused, letting out a small sigh. "When I managed to escape," she continued, "I found you. I swear to you, Pandora, that's all I know. Everyone… they think I'm dead." Her voice cracked ever so slightly. "How is any of this possible?"

That was the first time I heard her story told in that manner. It was possibly even more traumatic than being thrust into an alternate universe. At least, we knew what was coming next for a little while.

"I don't know," I breathed out. "But I'm going to do my best to try and figure it out." I got to my feet a second later, holding out a hand for her to take. "Until then, what do you say that you try not to hold that against me?"

She took it instantly, a real smile appearing across her lips. "You know, you shouldn't want to be like me," she said. "You should want to be exactly who you are because at the end of the day, that's all that matters. And from the stories I've heard, that's better than being me."

I echoed her smile, nodding in her direction in a sign of respect. Mutual admiration was a thing, and it was a thing I could get used to around here.

When I finally made it up to the gym where Natasha was waiting, no hot dog in hand, she was already wailing away on a punching bag. She barely glanced in my direction as she heard my approaching footsteps, but I could see the small smirk on her face.

"How did it go?" she asked in a sing-songy voice. I was ready to skip the punching bag and punch her instead.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "She's growing on me," I commented.

Natasha stopped what she was doing, folding her arms across her chest. "Fury's thinking of having her as a co-director one of these days," she said, judging my reaction. "What changed with you?"

"It's hard when you've idolized someone your entire life and then suddenly, you meet them, and they're not exactly what you were expecting."

The words seemed to spill out of my mouth before I thought about it. "She's not?" Natasha questioned in return, raising an eyebrow. I had a feeling neither of us expected my answer.

"No, she's better."

We graduated from punching bags to punching each other, much to my enjoyment. It felt good to have human contact again after spending so much time hiding in Madrid. Natasha never pulled her punches when it came to training.

I successfully dodged another one of her swings, wrenching her arm behind her back, and she tapped me to restart our position.

"Good," she breathed out. "Just a few more times."

Groaning at her statement, I threw her an annoyed glance, hating how harsh my breathing sounded. I was winded, not that I would ever admit it. "Just…" I trailed off, holding up a hand. "Give me a second."

Apparently, that wasn't an option.

Before I knew what was happening, Natasha punched me square in the jaw, sending stars ringing across my eyes. I immediately held a hand to my jaw, making sure it was still set properly on my bone structure, and glared in her direction.

"What the hell?" I snapped, moving my jaw in circles.

"They won't let you have a second," Natasha retorted, not seeming in the least bit sorry for the stunt she pulled.

I shook my head. "You think I don't know that?" I cried. "I'm not a rookie, Nat. I've had a long day, and I need a moment."

Neither of us were good at listening to each other, apparently, for I found myself sprawled on my back not two seconds later. I heard a thunk of my head hitting the ground, and I moaned, cursing Natasha right and left.

"And I said it wasn't an option," she said, but her voice sounded fuzzy to my eyes. I definitely had some sort of concussion.

I blinked rapidly, shoving myself up to my elbows in a stupid attempt to get back to the fight at hand. I was going to show her what retaliation really felt like. However, I stopped mid-rise when I saw Steve standing in front me, exactly where Natasha should have been.

My mouth fell open at the sight of him, and I shook my head, unable to comprehend what was happening before me. "Steve?" I whispered, shock ringing through my brain.

"Leaving me wasn't an option," he said in a cold voice. "And now, you'll never have that chance again."

He reached down to grab my shoulder, and I tried to scrabble away as best as I could in fear of what his next move would be. However, when his hand touched my body, I immediately snapped back to the present, blinking away the vision in front of me.

Natasha was there. Steve wasn't. I needed to get through my head.

"Pandora?" she was asking, shaking my shoulder with an extremely concerned look on her face.

I instantly pushed her away, blinking away anything that was left in my brain. "I'm fine," I barked as I sat up, holding my head with one hand.

I hit my head. That was all that happened. People with concussions suffer from hallucinations all the time, I told myself. That was the extent of it.

A tiny piece of my brain reminded me that this wasn't the first time I was seeing things, but I quickly shoved that thought aside. I wasn't losing my mind.

I just wasn't.

"What is going on with you?" Natasha asked, taking a seat next to me.

I knew the difference between the Natasha who pushed me and trained me to be a better agent and the Natasha who was like a sister to me. This was the sister coming out.

"It's not just today," I finally whispered, trying my hardest to hold back the emotions that threatened to consume me.

She gave me another concerned glance, not saying a word. "I can't talk about this," I said frantically, wishing more than anything that she would forget this happened. But I knew that she heard me say Steve's name, and that alone was enough for an explanation. "It only makes it worse."

"Makes what worse?"

"Nat, I… I have… a problem," I stuttered, biting my lip. "I'm fine. I will be fine. I just need time." I paused, afraid to even speak the words out loud. "Anxiety attacks. Visions of things that aren't actually there. Insomnia."

Everyone knew what those symptoms added up to. I just refused to believe that I was another victim of post-traumatic stress disorder.

"Pandora," Natasha whispered, the concern morphing into sympathy.

I didn't want her pity. I wanted to get better, and I knew I wasn't able to do that here.

"I'm fine," I retorted, shaking my head. "And if anyone asks, that is what you say." A lump started to rise in my throat at the concept of someone other than Natasha finding out about my hallucinations. "Because if anyone else finds out about this," I continued, my voice cracking with sadness. "I'll be done."

Natasha opened her mouth to argue with me. As a friend, I figured she would make a comment about SHIELD allowing people to take time to get better. That wasn't an option for me. The only thing I needed to do was push through it, as awful of an idea as that sounded. With any luck, it would go away.

Luck never seemed to be on my side.

"I read protocol!" I swept on before Natasha could say anything I already knew. "If an agent is not mentally stable, they will remain at base until deemed fit for action."

She shook her head, placing a hand on my knee. "This is different," she murmured, trying to say something to comfort me. One look in her direction told her that she was wrong.

"Is it?" I asked sarcastically. "You can't tell anyone, Nat, you have to promise me."

The death look of concern returned on Natasha's features, and I guessed I wasn't going to get that promise from her lips. "This is SHIELD," she said. "This is what we stand for."

"We can't just pretend like New York didn't happen," I pointed out, biting my lip.

This was way bigger than what went down with Steve and me after the Battle of New York.

"You're going to have to," Natasha repeated, taking my hand and hauling me back to my feet. "I know you. The rest of this base knows you. You're not alone."

She was right. It still didn't help my brain from feeling utterly helpless.

Even so, I put a brave smile on my face and adjusted my jaw once more. There was a lot to still be done mentally and physically to prepare me for my exam to earn top clearance, and I planned on using every waking second to train. The last thing I needed was another attack on my brain in the middle of a mission.

I needed to get my crap together.

Immediately.

* * *

**A/N: **In all honesty, I thought today was Wednesday, my bad. xoxo see you for my Sunday/Wednesday updates (assuming I remember what day it is!) and ty to my amazing beta per usual. you know who you are.


	7. Chapter 7

**PANDORA**

**ONE WEEK EARLIER**

It was a week before my day of infamy, and I was finally sleeping through the night. It was honestly a miracle, and while most other agents said they couldn't sleep a wink the week before their big test, I felt finally at peace. After my talk with Natasha a few months ago, things were getting better mentally.

At least, until Natasha decided to bang open my door at seven o'clock in the morning, jarring me awake from my peaceful sleep.

"Rise and shine!" she announced, sounding more chipper than usual. "T minus one week until your exam."

I groaned, throwing a pillow in her direction. "Must we call it that?" I asked, hating the word exam more and more as the days went on.

"Do you want to pass this or not?" she questioned, raising her eyebrow.

I didn't respond. We both knew the answer to that simple question.

"What time is it again?" I inquired, trying to stall the process of me actually getting out of bed.

"Seven."

Groaning again, I flipped over on my stomach, suppressing my sounds of protest in my pillow. "I was up late last night," I said. "Can't I just sleep in today?"

Natasha knew I was a night owl. I got my best work done when I stayed up all night and slept all morning. Unfortunately, I knew that was the exact reason she woke me up early today. It was all a test with her.

"You can sleep when you're dead," she teased, yanking off the covers and exposing my body to the air in my room. "What were you doing last night anyway, Skyping your boyfriend?"

I rolled my eyes, giving her the dirtiest look imaginable for seven in the morning. "Steve is not my boyfriend," I retorted.

"Get with the times, Whitman," she said with a smirk. "It's training time."

I really didn't have much of a choice when it came to Natasha.

For being completely overtired and cranky, I had a great training session with Natasha. Her beaming smile told me everything I needed to know. I was beyond ready for my mission next week.

That was how I ended up in Fury's office later that day, a confident look across my face. I was equally determined not to let Fury ruin my good mood. Despite all of the other agents telling me otherwise, I had an amazing feeling about next week.

"Sir, you said you wanted to see me?" I questioned, knocking once on the door before entering and shutting it behind me.

Fury nodded at my arrival, gesturing to the two agents standing in front of him. "I wanted you to meet the senior agents that will be accompanying you on your mission," he said.

I breathed an internal sigh of relief. For a moment, I thought these unknown agents had filed a complaint against me or delayed my mission in any way. "Right, of course," I replied, heading over to the agents' sides with my arm outstretched. "Agent Pandora Whitman, but you already knew that."

The one on the left shook my hand first, a small smirk crossing his face as he did so. I immediately got a bad feeling about him and his goatee. "Brock Rumlow," he said, introducing himself.

I did my best to copy his expression as I pulled my hand away. He was clearly trying to take advantage of the fact that I was a newbie.

The one on the right was more stoic but had a much firmer grip on my hand. "Jack Rollins," he said, nodding in my direction.

I had them figured out in a split second.

Rumlow was the sleazy agent who slept with the younger agents to make them feel special before he dumped them in the dust. Rollins was his taller buffer friend who constantly backed him up on his adventures, lurking in the shadows until he was needed. I only hoped they were ready to take orders from an inferior.

"Pleasure," I finally responded, putting on a sickly-sweet smile. "So, do I get to know what the mission is already?"

I was directing my attention to Fury, but I didn't get an answer from him.

"You know," Rumlow interrupted whatever the director was about to say. "This is rather unorthodox. Director Fury is jumping through a lot of loop holes for you."

I shook my head, keeping the pleasantries to a minimum. "So, I've heard," I responded. "And what would you two know?"

"We both rose the ranks quickly too," Rumlow continued, shrugging his shoulders. "You aren't alone."

Rollins smirked towards his partner. "You're just a lot younger," he added, turning his gaze back to me.

"Twenty-six years old as of two days ago," I commented.

That caught Fury's attention. "It was your birthday, and you didn't tell me," he accused, shaking his head in disgrace.

"Sorry, didn't know you were throwing a party," I answered with a grin. It felt good to laugh. "Is there anything else you need?"

Fury shook his head. "You all are dismissed," he said with a nod towards the door. That was enough of a cue for me to get out of here.

I turned to Rumlow and Rollins as they followed me into the hallway out of Fury's office. I was not about to advertise where my room was to them as they shadowed me.

"Thanks for being on board," I remarked. I was getting really tired of this fake smile. "I'll see you in a week."

As soon as I turned around to ditch the two agents, I felt a hand grip my arm, stalling my movements. This was exactly what I was afraid of.

"Not so fast," Rumlow said, forcing me to look at him. "If we're going to be your partners, we need to know a little bit more about you."

Immediately, I had war flashbacks to safety classes in high school where stranger danger was a daily topic. It was an important concept growing up in New York City. Still, this entire situation was screaming threat in my head. Sleazy guys only had one thing in mind, after all.

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm not going to like this?" I all but snapped.

I felt my body tensing up in anticipation of whatever move the pair of agents were about to pull on me. I needed to be prepared.

"It'll be fun, princess," Rumlow purred, and I almost barfed in my mouth.

I did one last surveillance of the area, making sure that my eyes were seeing straight. I was in an empty hallway with no security cameras, and to make matters worse, I had no idea what floor I was on. If Rumlow and Rollins were up to something, this was about to be the end of me.

"I'm not a princess," I snarled one last time before I lunged towards Rumlow, punching him in the jaw.

Rollins instantly responded to my actions, wrapping his arm around my waist and yanking me to the side. I used the wall to flip over his arm, wrestling him to the ground. As soon as I placed my boot on his chest, however, I felt Rumlow kick me off his partner. Tumbling to the ground, I immediately rolled to the side to avoid being slammed by Rumlow again. I shot back to my feet, facing the injured Rollins still on the ground and Rumlow hovering over him.

If they were taking it easy on me, I wouldn't have noticed.

I heaved a deep sigh before I faked a move towards Rumlow. He fell for the trick, causing me to slide underneath his legs, catching him off balance. It only took one more shove to the side to send him sprawled to the ground next to his partner. If this was sparring, I would have smirked, but this was something far more serious.

"Wanna call me a princess again?" I questioned, glaring down at the pair of agents.

To my complete horror, Rollins started to laugh. Like, actually laugh out loud. If I wasn't infuriated before, I definitely was now.

Rollins propped himself up on his elbows, wincing at the obvious back pain he was going to have from our wrestle to the ground. He shook his head, still goddamn giggling, and turned to Rumlow with a smile on his face.

"You owe me ten bucks," he said, holding out his hand towards his partner.

Rumlow smirked with a toss of his head but still fumbled in his pocket for a ten-dollar bill. When he passed it to his partner in a form of a high-five, the situation suddenly dawned on me.

"This was a test."

They both looked up at me at the sound of my voice, and I took a step backwards in shock. I should have known. Not everyone was Grant Ward, I had to remind myself.

Rumlow hopped to his feet, shaking out his injuries. "You passed with flying colors, princess," he said, setting his nose back in place. "Congrats, you're gonna fit in just fine."

It was a dirty trick, but I respected it.

Still, the pair gave me a weird vibe, and my instincts weren't to be ignored. I simply nodded in their direction once before walking away towards the elevator. I felt their eyes burning holes in my back, but it barely mattered. I had agents on my side, for once.

The next day, the doubt came creeping back in my system.

Time was ticking down until my big day, and while I knew I was beyond ready, there was a lot riding on this one mission. If I screwed this up, it wouldn't just be the end of my SHIELD career. It would be the end of my superhero career.

That was why I was on hour number two of a phone call to Phil Coulson.

He was the most down-to-earth agent who wouldn't exactly lie to me, but I knew he would at least calm the nerves. After all, his team was dealing with creatures and people that were far worse than some silly test. I needed to be put in check.

"The team wishes you good luck," Phil was currently saying.

As much as I loved hearing about his missions, I missed actually seeing him in person. Fury and Maria were the only ones privileged enough to see him.

"Yeah, you too, with your… problem," I said, unable to describe everything he just told me in the past hour. "I wish I could be there to help."

Phil audibly sighed from his end of the phone. "You need to rest up for next week," he observed.

I bit my lip apprehensively, hating every second of nervousness. "Were you this nervous every time you were tested?" I questioned.

"I wasn't much of a field agent," he responded softly. "But I did my time. It's natural to be nervous. In fact, it helps you."

I wasn't sure how true that was, but I stayed silent on the matter. "I just wish-" I started to say, but Phil didn't even let me finish my doubtful thoughts.

"You'll be fine," he retorted. "I have faith in you."

He was right. He usually was, not that I would ever tell him that.

"Thanks, Phil," I sighed. "I'll see you soon."

I didn't feel a single ounce better.

I was definitely borderline lost cause.

Scrolling through my contacts, I landed on Emerald's name, immediately dialing her number without thinking. It rang three times before her voicemail kicked in, and I outwardly groaned. If there was any time to talk to my best friend, it was now.

"Em!" I shouted in the answering machine. "I wish you would stop boning your boyfriend and pick up the phone. I just… really need to hear your voice. I need your words of encouragement right about now. You're a jerk, but I love you. Call me back."

For a split second, I almost debated calling Valencia. The thought passed as quickly as it arrived, however, as my mind flooded with the last conversation we had with one another.

"You won't like what you find."

Valencia's lingering words echoed in my head, and I had to physically shake my head from side to side to cease the reverberation.

I headed up to my room, breathing out as slowly as I could to calm my racing heart. I turned on the shower just as sluggishly, watching the water tumble out from the faucet and spiral down the drain. If I didn't get my crap together, I was going to be the next one spiraling down the drain.

"Come on, Pandora," I scolded myself. "You're going to be just fine. Relax, god dammit."

I almost had my heart rate back to a normal pace when I finally got out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my body. My hair fell around my face, cooling down the sweat still dripping down my brow. I was going to be just fine.

I just had to keep repeating that to myself for the next week.

I was going-

My thoughts stopped dead in their tracks when I rounded the corner into my bedroom, laying eyes on Steve sitting at the edge of my bed. A part of me wished that he was real and actually sitting there, but the more realistic part of me knew that I was suffering yet again.

"Not now, please," I whispered, feeling my heart rate spike to the pace it was before.

Steve shook his head, glancing around the room with a scoff. "You left me for this," he said matter-of-factly, but I could hear the disgust in his voice.

"Steve, no," I begged, wishing the illusion to end. "I left you for us."

"You left me for this organization," he replied, coolly raising an eyebrow. "Was it worth it?"

At this point, the words were falling out of my mouth. I was desperate to say whatever to make my brain stop the delusions.

"It was," I responded. "This is everything I wanted. I just wish you were here to share it with me."

Apparently, that was not the right cue.

"Because you left me."

I shook my head. "Stop it, please," I whispered, pleading with myself to end this suffering.

"We could have been happy, Pandora."

"Stop it."

"We could have been together."

"Stop it."

"We could have-"

I couldn't take this anymore.

Letting myself completely go limp, I collapsed to the floor, holding my head in my hands. "I said, stop it!" I screamed, throwing the closest thing to my hands across the room.

Unfortunately for my neighbors, it was a porcelain lamp.

I wasn't sure how long I was sitting there, letting the tears flow down my cheeks. Steve was still shouting at me, but I had my hands firmly placed over my ears as I rocked back and forth. This was worse than ever.

It wasn't until I felt a pair of hands grasping my shoulders that I opened my eyes, landing my green gaze on a soft, concerned pair of brown eyes.

"Pandora," Peggy kept saying to me as she tightened her grip on my shoulders. "Pandora."

Her voice was muffled, but every time I blinked, I could see my name on her lips.

"Please make it go away," I murmured, refusing to release my hands from my head.

Peggy slid her hands up to meet mine, searching my gaze for anything that provided her with some information as to what was happening. Gently, she pulled my hands away from my ears, but I immediately wished she hadn't.

"You could have saved us!" Steve was still shouting from his spot on my bed.

I shook my head, wishing I was alone to battle this. "Stop it, please," I whispered one more time. I couldn't stand to hear this anymore.

"Hey, hey," Peggy said, still holding my hands in her own. "Look at me, concentrate on my voice, it's okay. You're going to be fine." I took a shaky breath, letting her words wash over me. I wasn't going to let this control me any longer.

The next time I let out an exhale, Steve was gone.

"You're alright," she murmured, squeezing my hands to remind me that she was still there. "You can do this. If anyone deserves happiness, it's you."

That was not what I was expecting to hear, even if she was just saying it to make me feel better.

"I thought you hated me, Peggy," I finally said, hating how unstable my voice sounded.

She smiled sadly towards me. "I could never," she responded. "Not when you remind me so much of myself."

Realistically, her words should have sent me over the edge again, but for some reason, she was like a breath of fresh air.

"What happens if I fail?" I asked, afraid of the answer.

Peggy only widened her smile. "That's not something you should concern yourself with," she replied. "You're going to go out there, you're going to listen to my commands as your Director, you're going to ace your first mission as command, and you're going to make a lot of people very proud."

I shook my head again. "It's not that simple," I tried to reason, but there was no reasoning with someone like Peggy.

"You're not listening to me," she said. "Go out there and make everyone proud. I mean, everyone."

Letting out one last sigh of relief, I pulled Peggy into a tight hug. This time, the tears spilling out from my eyes were ones of liberation. I was beyond ready to prove everyone wrong about me.

Everyone.

"Thank you," I breathed in her ear, enjoying the embrace while it lasted. I knew this moment wouldn't last forever. "Thank you."

The week passed by far quicker than I imagined. One moment, I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom in nothing but a towel, hugging Peggy Carter of all people, and the next, I was standing outside the Quinjet next to Natasha, ready to board.

"You ready?" she asked, resting her hand on my shoulder.

This time, I was prepared to answer that question.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I responded honestly, smiling towards Natasha. I knew she was as happy about this day as I was. She was in every way the sister I never had. "As long as we have no plans of jumping out of this plane," I added, half-joking.

The look on Natasha's face sent a moment of fear spiraling back in my system.

"About that," she said sheepishly, a hint of a smirk on her face.

Great. Strike one.

* * *

**A/N: **Blame Dorian. At least, it's a Wednesday :)))) xoxo


	8. Chapter 8

**PANDORA**

**PRESENT DAY**

I always imagined meeting a pirate.

After all, Pirates of the Caribbean was one of my ultimate favorite movies growing up. I aspired to be Elizabeth Swann when I grew up, minus the whole husband getting killed part. Spoiler alert. If someone had offered me the chance to sail on the Black Pearl for the rest of my life back then, I would have accepted in a heartbeat.

Unfortunately, Georges Batroc was not the pirate I was expecting to meet.

He was bigger, stronger, and he had no qualms about using my pain to his advantage. It didn't matter if it was physical or mental pain to him. It was all the same in the end.

In the end, I felt both as I was thrown thirty feet across the bow of the ship, tumbling through an open door and into the computer room. I immediately hopped back to my feet as quick as I fell, my hands twitching towards my gun in my belt.

"You asshole!" I shouted, shaking my head in a groan. I was definitely going to feel that one tomorrow.

As Batroc advanced closer, I wasted no time in pulling my gun from my belt and holding it at eye level in his direction. This time, I wasn't going to hesitate. He already proved a point.

"We have you surrounded, Batroc," I threatened. "There's no escape."

He chuckled, still moving closer towards me with every step. "You are good, girl," he admitted. "I give you that. But, what about her?" He tilted his head towards the center of the computer room, earning the element of surprise once again.

I had to give the damn pirate credit with that one.

For the first time, I realized we weren't alone. Natasha's whereabouts were no longer a mystery.

"Natasha?" I questioned, squinting in her direction to make sure it wasn't another figment of my imagination. "What the hell?"

My S.O. barely glanced up from her work at one of the computers. "Well, this is awkward," she said with a smirk. It was clear nothing fazed her.

"What are you doing?" I asked again.

"Backing up the hard drive," she commented, her gaze returning to the screen in front of her. "It's a good habit to get into."

I knew she was hiding something, but I had another issue to take care of first.

Batroc thought he had me distracted. He used the opportunity of Natasha in the room to advance closer to me in a poorly executed attempt to catch me off guard. As soon as he reached for my gun, however, I twisted his arm around his back, knocking him on the side of his head with the end of my gun. He crumpled to the ground almost immediately, falling unconscious.

That was at least one success, and thanks to Natasha, it barely felt like one.

"Rumlow needed your help," I said, folding my arms across my chest. "What the hell was so important that you left us hanging?"

Natasha nodded in the direction of Batroc's body on the ground with an impressed look on her face. "Nice hit," she commented.

I didn't want her praise now. I wanted answers.

"You're lying to me," I snapped. "You're saving SHIELD intel… on my mission. Is this some sort of test?"

I was really hoping she was going to say yes.

Natasha sighed. "Whatever I can get my hands on, I'm taking," she finally admitted. "You weren't supposed to know."

"Oh, and that's supposed to make me feel better?" I asked, raising one eyebrow. "My mission was to rescue hostages."

"And you did that beautifully."

She really wasn't helping herself here.

"You just jeopardized the whole operation," I retorted, refusing to let the situation go.

Natasha recoiled as if I had slapped her in the face. Normally, that was a clear warning sign to back down from the argument. Today, however, this was my first solo mission, and she was about to ruin the entire thing.

Dramatic or not, I was right.

"I think that's overstating things," she said, her smirk falling from her face.

I opened my mouth to retort something snappy, but a faint noise interrupted my thoughts, causing me to spin around on the spot. I barely saw the grenade Batroc threw in our direction before he darted out of the door.

"Shit."

I immediately grabbed Natasha's arm, wrenching her over the computer screen and ducking into the adjacent room right as the grenade exploded around us. I groaned, feeling the shards of glass piercing my exposed skin as I leaned my head back against the wall for a moment.

Batroc was my mission, and I let him slip through my fingers because I got distracted.

Maybe this was a test, after all.

I heard an audible sigh explode from Natasha's lips as she realized the gravity of the situation she placed us both in. "Okay, that one's on me," she muttered.

"You're damn right," I responded, getting to my feet with a satisfying crunch of broken glass under my boots.

Not even waiting for Natasha to join me, I scooped up my gun from the ground before darting out of the door after Batroc. This wasn't over just yet.

Upon glancing around the ship, however, I knew that Batroc was already gone. It seemed he still owned the element of surprise in the end.

Footsteps tore up the wooden panels to my right, and I instantly spun around, holding my gun up in case the pirate came back for more. I lowered it a second later when I laid eyes on Rumlow, panting with a concerned expression on his face. If I hadn't known better, I would have made a joke about him actually caring about me.

"Where's Batroc?" he asked when he caught his breath.

"Agent Romanoff let him escape," I said in a clear tone of voice, making sure Natasha heard my annoyance over the communication headset.

She didn't respond. That meant she felt at least a little guilty about running a side mission alongside my own.

"We rescued the hostages," Rumlow pointed out, directing my attention back to the task at hand. "There's nothing more you can do."

He was right, as much as I hated to admit it.

"If I fail this mission because of my own damn S.O.-" I said, cutting myself off. I had every damn right to be angry. This was supposed to be my day of victory, and yet, it felt cheated.

I couldn't even have this.

"Chill, Whitman," Rumlow replied, noticing my very visible rage. "You handled this beautifully."

I clenched my fists together once more before letting out a long exhale. "After I get my official status, I'm so gonna stab Fury's other eye out," I threatened lightly.

Rumlow chuckled, shaking his head. "Get in line, princess," he teased. "It's time to head back."

I should have corrected him on my nickname, but I barely had the energy at this point to get back on the Quinjet and ride in silence to the Triskellion. I needed a hot shower, first aid, and a punching bag.

Preferably a punching bag with the name of Nick Fury.

He had the audacity to stand in his office waiting for me with a pleased expression on his face. As much as I wanted to snap at him, I had to be patient. There was a sequence of events that had to be followed to ensure my security of my position at SHIELD.

Badge first, lecture later.

"Agent Whitman," he greeted me, handing over my official SHIELD badge. "Congratulations."

I glanced down at it, a tiny smile appearing at the corners of my lips in anticipation of what was coming next for me. As a full-time agent, I had the world counting on me now. This was far bigger than the Avengers.

"This is official, right?" I clarified, tucking the badge away in my pocket. "Like you're not going to take it back?"

Suspicion crossed Fury's face a split second later, and I knew I had him. He was expecting the same reaction that I had when he told me I was finally a part of SHIELD. Plot twist, it wasn't.

"Why?" he questioned slowly.

I tucked my badge in my jacket pocket, keeping it safe from Fury's clutches. I stayed silent as long as I could to build the suspense before I exploded.

"You just can't stop yourself from lying, can you?" I blurted out, folding my arms across my chest.

Fury didn't even blink in surprise. That only verified my anger to a higher degree. If Fury knew I was going to confront him about Natasha, he had to know that he was wrong. Still, he showed no emotions across his face.

He was lucky I knew how to read him by now.

"I didn't lie," he finally said. "Agent Romanoff had a different mission than yours."

I raised an eyebrow carefully. "On my evaluation?" I retorted. "Was that even a thing or was this whole 'becoming an agent' thing a ruse too?"

Fury held his hands up in the air, leaning away from his desk. "Calm down," he warned, sending a dirty look in my direction. "I was killing two birds with one stone."

"I never liked that metaphor," I responded coolly. "Those hostages could have died because of you, and it would have been on my head."

Fury held my gaze intently as if daring me to look away. I only glared deeper. An apology wasn't spewing from his lips yet, and I was curious to see if he was human enough to even admit it.

"I sent the greatest agents I have to make sure that didn't happen," he replied.

I wasn't buying it.

"Agents are supposed to trust each other," I snapped.

"No, they're not."

His immediate response caught me off guard for the first time since we began our argument. I physically took a step back, shaking my head to make sure I heard him correctly.

Fury's gaze only got more intense as he moved into the superior position once more. "Last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye," he said as serious as ever.

"How terribly unfortunate."

I timed my response with an eye roll for good measure. Just because Fury was my boss didn't mean I had to blindly agree with his methods. Unfortunately, he became comfortable with no one questioning his leadership.

Until I came along.

"Look, you had your priorities in order, and you completed the mission," he said with an inaudible sigh. "I didn't want you to do anything you weren't comfortable with. Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything."

That certainly wasn't an apology, and it definitely sucked as an excuse.

"I can't lead a mission when the people I'm leading have missions of their own," I pointed out.

"It's called compartmentalizing," Fury replied. "Nobody spills the secrets because nobody knows them all."

Okay, that was definitely a lie.

"It's called bullshit," I snapped, unable to stop myself. "Because you're the keeper of all of the secrets."

It was true, but I still recoiled a little at the deepening glare Fury was sending me. I was a little harsh, I supposed.

"Sorry," I clarified. "It's bullshit, _sir_."

I didn't even look to see Fury's expression as I marched out of his office without a dismissal. I knew I went overboard with my side of the argument, but to be fair, I was more than reasonable with my anger.

I was getting too comfortable.

Just when I thought I had a family again here at SHIELD, everyone proved themselves wrong. Natasha and Fury lied about my own mission that I had been working so long on, Rumlow and Rollins were too sleazy to consider trustworthy, and I hadn't seen Peggy or Sharon since I came back from the mission. To be honest, they would probably tell me that I was wrong too.

Maybe I was overreacting.

Maybe I was turning into Captain America.

Either way, I had no idea who I was working for anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

**PANDORA**

I was still pissed off the next day. Yesterday was supposed to be one of the best days of my career, but it felt like Fury had taken a piece of success away from me. The game was rigged, and I was just another pawn whether I liked it or not. That realization took a sting on my mental state.

Still, I was too angry to be suffering in my own head.

It was a lot more fun to suffer out loud.

When I made my way back to Fury's office the next morning, I was positive the entire hallway could see the steam coming out from my ears. I barely had time to cool off before I was notified that I was needed once again.

My mood had finally reached a boiling point.

"I really don't like being summoned," I snapped as soon as I entered the room, not bothering to knock. It was an arrogant move, yes, but Fury deserved every bit of savageness I was about to throw his way.

Fury sighed, glancing up from his paperwork. "You were wrong about me," he said plainly, catching me off guard. I wasn't exactly sure what his response to my snappy comment was, but that definitely wasn't it.

I fell into silence as he shuffled to the front of his desk, a rare smile appearing across his lips. "I do share," he said, leading me out into the hallway and in the nearest elevator. "It only took you swearing at me to see that."

The longer he continued to speak, the more confused I got. I really had no idea if I was about to be fired or promoted. Fury was that kind of boss.

"Am I supposed to thank you or apologize?" I questioned. "I really had no plans of doing either."

Okay, I was still a little salty.

Fury shook his head, stabbing a button aggressively on the elevator panel. "Be grateful that I like you," he retorted, folding his arms across his chest.

I opened my mouth to respond with yet another sarcastic remark, but an electronic voice cut me off. Honestly, it was probably for the best. I had no idea how to stop.

"Agent Whitman does not have codeword clearance for Project Insight," the elevator chimed in, putting me in my place once again.

Apparently, that was everyone's favorite pastime.

"Director override," Fury responded casually. "Fury, Nicholas J."

"Confirmed."

Immediately, the elevator jolted to life, descending the floors of the Triskelion. Per usual, I had no idea what Fury was up to, but wherever he was taking me, I knew it was going to make me regret making those remarks yesterday.

"My grandfather operated one of these things for 40 years."

I glanced up from where I was leaning against the back of the glass elevator, my eyes landing on the side of Fury's face. Apparently, he was in a sharing mood.

"Oh God," I mumbled, not prepared for his launch into a life story. "Please, no."

If Fury heard me, he didn't give it the time of day.

"Granddad worked in a nice building, got lots of tips," he continued. "He'd walk home every night with a roll of ones stuffed in his lunch bag. He'd say hi, people would say hi back. Time went on. Neighborhood got rougher. He'd say hi, they'd say 'keep on stepping.' Granddad got to gripping that lunch bag a little tighter."

"Did he ever get mugged?" I found myself asking without realizing the words left my lips. It was really supposed to be an internal question.

Fury turned in my direction with an idiotic smirk. He was like a father catching me with my hand in the cookie jar. "I thought you didn't care about my stories," he replied smugly.

"I don't," I said quickly, trying to redeem myself. "I'm just entertaining you on the slowest elevator ride in eternity."

Much to my delight, he returned to the story. "Every week, someone would say 'what's in the bag,'" he explained. "And what did he do? He would show them. Bunch of crumpled ones and a loaded .22 Magnum."

My gaze instantly shot up to Fury's face again. That was certainly a plot twist in the story I pretended not to be invested in.

"Yeah," Fury continued with a chuckle. "Granddad loved people. He just didn't trust them very much."

I really didn't think I could be more surprised than I was hearing the ending to that story. I was wrong, yet again.

My streak wasn't the best today.

When the elevator doors opened, my mouth fell open at the sight that lay ahead of me. Three giant Helicarriers stood in front of me, amongst the piles of equipment and weaponry ready to be loaded onto the ships. This was the next SHIELD project. This was the new Phase Two.

"Yeah, I know," Fury said complacently as he noticed my shocked reaction. "They're a little bigger than a .22 Magnum."

That was the understatement of the century.

He guided me further into the basement of the Triskelion, wandering through the beast-like ships and their construction crews. Every inch of the place was crawling with technology and weapons. I wasn't sure whether to love it or hate it.

"This is Project Insight," Fury finally explained. "Three next generation Helicarriers synced to a network of targeting satellites. It's all launched from the Lemurian Star, or at least, it was." He shrugged his shoulders. "Once we get them in the air, they never need to come down," he continued. "They have continuous sub-orbital flight, courtesy of our new repulsor engines."

There was only person with the brain capacity of figuring that one out.

"Tony?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow. I already knew the answer.

"He had a few suggestions once he had an up-close look at our old turbines," he replied. "These new long-range precision guns can eliminate a thousand hostiles in a minute. The satellites can read a terrorist before he even steps out of his spider hole. We're gonna neutralize a lot of threats before they even happen."

An unsettling feeling in my stomach started to develop when Fury was explaining the purpose of the Helicarriers to me. I wanted it to go away, to convince myself that he was doing the best he could to protect the universe from whatever threat came next, but I couldn't find the words to justify this.

"I thought the punishment usually came after the crime," I pointed out, reluctant to say anything at all.

I was grateful that Fury was in a sharing mood and wanted to share this classified secret with me of all agents, but this was one toe away from crossing that dangerous line. People deserved the right to prove themselves one way or another. If this weaponry was around a year ago, Valencia wouldn't be alive today. I couldn't live with that.

"We can't afford to wait that long," Fury responded with a loud sigh.

I raised an eyebrow. "We?" I asked.

"After New York, I convinced the World Security Council that we needed a quantum stage in threat analysis," he said. "For once, we're way ahead of the curve."

I licked my lips, trying to process what he was telling me without telling me outright. I was down here not because Fury chose me to trust but because of Valencia. This was all because of what she and Loki did. There was going to be another threat we didn't see coming, rather that I didn't see coming.

So much for trust.

"Holding a gun to everyone on Earth is not protection," I observed, shaking my head in disappointment. "This isn't freedom. This is fear."

That was not what I signed up for when I joined SHIELD, and a part of Fury had to understand that. Still, his expression said otherwise.

We stood there for a moment, staring each other down like we were in a contest, before Fury finally broke my gaze, shaking his head yet again. He was trying to make me feel bad for not jumping on the bandwagon.

"You're starting to sound just like him," he finally said, earning my attention in a split second. "Maybe I should stop defending you."

He was crossing into very dangerous waters.

"I beg your pardon?" I snapped, praying I heard him wrong.

"Many around here only see you as Captain America's sidekick," Fury commented, not holding anything back anymore. "I've been setting them straight. Maybe I was the one who was wrong."

I pretended not to feel the sting that his comment left in my system, but it was still there, clear as day. I still recoiled at his name, every single damn time.

"I am nothing like him," I hissed, taking a step forward. "And if you think you can just-"

Fury never let me finish my threat. "Being a full agent means keeping secrets, especially ones that you may not particularly like," he pointed out.

"I joined SHIELD to protect people, if you remember," I retorted. "And instead, I'm nothing more than Captain America's sidekick, as you put, doing your dirty business."

He didn't even seem fazed, much to my dismay. My words were physically hurting me to say them, even though I knew I was right to be angry. I was my own person, and it was about damn time everyone started to realize that.

"You don't get an option anymore," Fury replied dryly. "You knew what you signed up for. It's time to get on board with that."

What I desperately wanted to say wasn't going to change his mind. I didn't sign up to fall in line. I signed up to make a difference.

So far, that was not going so hot.

"Don't hold your breath," I snapped, unable to formulate a proper way to say anything else.

I wasn't a soldier. It was time I stopped being compared to one.

By the time I stormed down to the lobby of the Triskelion, the fury in my system had only amplified. A part of me had no idea where I was heading next. The other part of me knew I needed to be alone as soon as humanly possible. There weren't many places I could do that around here.

I heard the footsteps chasing after me not long after I hit the lobby. Despite the desperate beeline to the front door, I knew I was about to be ambushed in another lecture.

"Pandora!"

Oh, great. Another person I had no desire to speak to.

I reluctantly stopped mere feet from the doors exiting the building, turning around slowly. I hoped the clear look of aggravation would be enough to drive her away, but Natasha was one of the most persistent people I knew.

"What makes you think I want to talk to you right now?" I barked in her direction.

Natasha rolled her eyes, glancing around at the random stares we were attracting from other agents passing by. "Calm down," she fretted. "You're going to attract unwanted attention."

Unwanted attention was my middle name.

Actually, it was Rose. I hated it.

"Good," I retorted, folding my arms across my chest. "I hope everyone hears that this place is full of liars."

"Aren't you?" Natasha questioned. "Aren't we all? Isn't that the foundation that SHIELD was built on? We're made to keep secrets."

Secrets and lies were two very different things, and I had a feeling I didn't have to explain the difference to Natasha.

"I don't know, Nat," I said. "Why don't you go ask Director Carter? I'm sure she would love to chat with you on that one."

She threw me an exasperated look, catching onto the concept that I was trying to escape her lecture. "That's not what I meant, and you know it," she replied. "I was following orders, same as you."

So, she did know why I was upset. That was at least a start.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" I asked, not really expecting an answer. "I thought… I don't know. It doesn't matter."

I thought I was getting close to trusting people again. That, apparently, was an idiotic notion around here.

"Pandora."

"I'm just having a hard time being around people that I don't trust."

Natasha tilted her head to one side. "Then why did you join SHIELD?" she inquired.

I paused, genuinely trying to come up with a solid answer in my head. "I… I don't know," I finally said. It was the most honest I felt all day.

"Don't you think it's time you figured that out?" she followed up her question with another question.

She was right. I knew she was right, but I needed to be alone to not think about all of the poor decisions I made in my life. I needed to convince myself that I was doing the right thing by helping people for once.

"I need some air," I said with a sigh, rotating back around to face the door.

Natasha didn't reach out to grab my arm like I thought she was going to. Perhaps she was catching onto the personal space aspect, after all. "Where are you going?" she called out from behind me, still desperate to mend the situation.

I didn't have an answer to her latest question for a solid minute. I needed out of this building, this sea of people. I needed somewhere familiar.

Glancing down at the row of flyers lining the sides of the Triskelion, it was hard to find one that wasn't promoting the soldier-like qualities SHIELD was looking for in its agents. I honestly felt like vomiting in that moment if it wasn't for the last one I saw.

Perfect.

I immediately grabbed it without thinking, all but throwing it in Natasha's face.

"Somewhere that I can think properly," I retorted, watching her expression grow into one of clear concern for my sanity. To be fair, it was probably reasonable to be concerned. "Somewhere where people won't lie to me."

Natasha glanced up from the flyer I stuffed in her hands, her eyes shining with sadness. I didn't want to hear it. She already said quite enough.

As I spun around to head out the door, I heard Natasha swear in a low tone of voice behind me. My decision was already made, no matter how horrible it sounded out loud. Sanity was the last thing I had at this moment in time.

It was time to catch up with an old friend.


	10. Chapter 10

**PANDORA**

I knew coming to the Smithsonian was a mistake from the moment I entered the museum.

It was one of my first times around the city without an ulterior motive on behalf of SHIELD, and I picked this place of all possible spots. The one spot that would trigger an anxiety attack more than anything else in the entire Washington D.C. area. A deeper part of me felt the need to connect to my past to figure out what the hell I had gotten myself into here, but the shallower part of my brain wanted to feel the internal pain more than anger.

Both parts of my brain were sending warning signs throughout my whole body, but I did my best to shove them down. I was here for my own purpose this time.

I kept my ball cap firmly planted on my head as I made my way into the exhibit, trying not to make eye contact with anyone in particular. If there was an exhibit about Captain America, I was bound to be recognized more than anyone else.

Heaving a sigh, I dared to glance up at the images displayed across the room, depicting the best moments of Steve's life through statues, costume displays, memoriams, and videos. It really was over the top.

"Jesus Christ," I mumbled under my breath. "They really immortalized you, didn't they?"

I doubted Steve actually took the time to visit his own exhibit. He wasn't that kind of person, after all. Still, my heart clutched in on itself to think about his face if he was here processing this with me.

If he was here, however, I most likely wouldn't be in this situation.

Shaking off the thought, I tried my hardest to pay attention to the voice guiding the visitors through the exhibit instead. It was safer that way.

"A symbol to the nation, a hero to the world," she was currently saying. "The story of Captain America is one of honor, bravery, sacrifice…"

I rolled my eyes. Steve definitely would have barfed if he heard all of this nonsense.

As I ran my fingers over the glass cases and displays, a tiny smile appeared across my lips. I had no idea what it was about this place, but I felt more at ease. It was almost as if I traveled back in time to a moment before Loki invaded Earth and my entire life changed. If I closed my eyes, I seriously could imagine sitting in my apartment next to Steve, eating Chinese food and watching the latest sitcom on TV.

For once, I had the capability of thinking about the past without freaking out about the future.

I never wanted to leave.

When I finally reopened my eyes, I stumbled over a loose wire laying across the ground, sending me spiraling into a display in the corner of the room. I grabbed onto the sides of the glass display, steadying myself on my feet, before I saw exactly what display I was currently staring at.

"Holy shit."

I literally fell into myself face first. Seeing a large picture of myself plastered across a museum was alarming enough without my history with Steve being on public display. At least, they got my good side on the picture.

Talk about karma.

"Are you a fan?" came a voice from behind me.

I immediately ducked my head down, pretending to blame it on my bashfulness rather than my identity. "Yeah, I guess you could say that," I replied softly.

"She's my favorite Avenger," the woman said from behind me. "They're an inspiration to us all."

I didn't dare turn around to see who was speaking to me, but boy did I desperately want to. I never heard those words come out of a civilian's mouth before. This past year and a half, I constantly was advised by SHIELD agents, by my friends, by my superiors, but I never spoke to someone like this museum visitor.

The scary part was that I used to be just like her.

Before a year and a half ago, I was a civilian too. I looked up to the Avengers as heroes, as fictional as they were at the time. And yet, here I was on the other side. It felt so different.

"Uh, who's they?" I asked, clearing my throat to make sure she was still standing behind me.

She was reading about me in a museum. This wasn't just different. This was completely surreal.

"The heroes," she said. "You see them on the news between Iron Man and Thor and Emerald, and you just sit here, thinking about the good that they're doing. It makes me want to be better."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I continued to hear her out. We inspired people to be better in this world. At least, I used to.

How could I possibly continue to inspire people by living a lie? I pretended not to care about my mental state, but that was a lie. I thought I was setting myself up on a path to success, but that was a lie. I even pushed away Steve in an effort to protect us both, but that was the biggest lie of them all.

I pushed Steve away because I was scared.

I had to be better.

My silence stretched through several minutes before I finally worked up the courage to turn around to face my admirer. But when I did, there was no one there.

Smiling briefly to myself, I turned back to the plaque of myself, shaking my head. People came here every day to learn more about one of our biggest heroes, and I was a part of that. It appeared I did one thing right after all.

It was time to be better.

I wandered over to the adjacent memorial, tilting my head to one side as my eyes darted over Bucky Barnes's poster. They used one of his old wartime photographs, showing a clip of him and Steve laughing together over and over again. It physically pained my heart to watch how happy they used to be. It reminded me of how happy I used to be with Steve.

"God damn it Barnes," I hissed under my breath. "At least, you had an excuse of why you left Steve. I…" I trailed off, biting my lower lip. I didn't even know what words to say aloud anymore. "And now, I'm talking to a piece of glass. Great."

I was definitely tiptoeing the line between sane and insane at the moment, but I had no intentions of leaving the exhibit anytime soon.

I found myself standing in the back of a room made to simulate a movie theater, complete with rows of benches and a single projector. The sign on the side of the room read "Captain America in the Eyes of Colleagues," which to me sounded like a load of bullshit. Steve didn't have colleagues. He had friends.

Peggy was currently speaking on the screen, looking exactly the same as she did a few miles down the street at SHIELD headquarters.

"That was a difficult winter," she was saying. "A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve-" She broke off, correcting herself. "Captain Rogers. He fought his way through a HYDRA blockade that had pinned our allies down for months. He saved over one thousand men that day. He changed my life too."

I sighed, leaning my head against the wall. "Yeah, get in line, Pegs," I mumbled.

My brain immediately tuned out the rest of the interview as my thoughts wandered to the former SHIELD director herself. There had to be some explanation of her arrival to this time period. From this interview date, a few years after Steve crashed his plane into the ice, and her own story, Peggy and Howard were still co-directors of SHIELD when she was kidnapped. No one had any explanations, not even this damn museum.

There was not a single clue in this entire place that pointed out that Peggy was missing or considered deceased from her sudden absence in the time period.

That alone was suspicious enough, coupled with the fact that her story sounded eerily similar to the way that Emerald, Valencia and I entered this world. I had a terrible feeling that they were connected, and I had an equally terrible feeling that this wasn't the end of the coincidences.

I wanted to scream.

A nearby security officer tapped me on the shoulder, a concerned look crossing his face. I immediately took a step away from him in shock, shaking my head.

"Can I help you?" I snapped, a part of my mind still lost in thought.

"You can't be causing disruptions in here, miss," he explained. "This is a high security location."

Confused, I glanced around the room quickly, stunned to see everyone sitting on the benches staring at me. The room was dark enough that no one could recognize me, but it was still alarming all the same. Apparently, I had actually screamed out loud.

I was really losing it.

"God damn it!" I swore, tears actively falling down my cheeks as I did so.

I pushed past the security officer before he could physically drag me out of the exhibit, stumbling into the lobby of the museum. I probably looked like a disaster and a half, and I was at least thankful that no one was approaching me at the moment. I wasn't even sure if I looked like Pandora Whitman anymore.

Finding an empty corner of the museum was hard enough but controlling my uncontrollable sobbing until I reached there was even harder. The anxiety attack just hit me like a truck.

Something was seriously wrong with me.

"Are you alright there?" came the voice first before I felt a hand on my arm.

I jumped a mile in the air, recoiling from the museum worker's touch instantly. "Please get away from me," I whispered hysterically.

"I-I'm sorry," the worker stumbled over his words, clearly embarrassed. "I thought you were in trouble. I just want to help-"

I tuned the rest of his words out as the tears blurred my vision. One blink, the worker was standing in front of me. The next blink, it was Steve standing there instead. I frantically rubbed my eyes, watching the worker materialize in my vision.

"I have to go," I blurted out, turning around and sprinting for the front door of the museum without another word.

I needed to be better for other people, but first, I needed to get better.

When I reached the Triskelion, I headed for the closest bathroom straightaway. I leaned over the sink, splashing cold water in my face in a poor attempt to calm myself down. I felt the sweat drip down my back and my forehead, tainting my skin. This quick fix wasn't going to cut it.

"Come on, Pandora," I muttered to myself. "This was your damn idea in the first place." I glanced up in the mirror, taking in my swollen eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. I wondered what Steve would say if he was actually here and not just stuck inside my brain. "I just need you out of my head," I said, my voice cracking. "Please."

The door to the bathroom swung open before I got my answer, and I instantly lowered my head, staring into the sink. I prayed that whoever it was would head to a stall and not bother me. Of course, prayers never seemed to work for me.

"Pandora?"

Of all people, it had to be Peggy.

I cleared my throat, turning on the faucet as I pretended to wash my hands. "Hey, Peggy," I said softly.

To my dismay, she leaned against the sink next to mine, a bright smile across her lips. "I printed out the results of your field op," she bubbled with excitement. "They were incredible."

I needed out of this conversation immediately. "Yeah, thanks," I murmured, not meeting Peggy's eyes. The last thing I needed right now was another lecture. Natasha and Fury already had her beat on that. "Listen, I'll talk to you later."

I didn't even make it to the door before Peggy side-stepped right in front of me, forcing me to meet her gaze. She didn't seem surprised or concerned to see my bloodshot eyes, and I wasn't sure which was a worse reaction.

"What's going on?" she demanded, her stern tone coming out.

The secret was out.

Not like she didn't already see me mid-mental breakdown before, of course.

"I can't talk about it," I finally replied. "I can't, Peggy. All of it… It's just too much."

She nodded once, understanding shining in her eyes. "I can help with that," she said softly.

"I don't need help," I retorted, refusing to believe that a woman who, up until a few months ago, lived her life in the 1950s could help. No one could help me.

"Yes, you do," she continued as if I hadn't spoken. "You're not as strong as you think, you know. You can't hold it in all of the time."

I let out a breathy laugh. "I can certainly try, can't I?" I admitted.

Peggy stared at me for a few more seconds, analyzing every inch of my appearance as much as I preferred her not to. The last thing I needed was her to report my instability to the board. I just got my SHIELD badge yesterday. Having it taken away just as quickly was a crime against humanity.

"I know something, rather someone, that can help."

That was unexpected. Clearly, she had been up to more than I realized in these past few months.

"Do you really think they can help me?" I questioned, hating how fragile my voice sounded.

She nodded instantaneously. "Slowly," she said honestly. "Everything takes time. After all, they helped me."

"Why are you helping me, Peggy?" I had to ask.

She smiled softly, taking my hand in hers. "I told you already," she replied. "You look like I did when I needed help. Only, I didn't have anyone to convince me of that fact. We're a lot alike, remember?"

I only remembered that every second of every day.

"Peggy."

Glancing up into her eyes sent a fresh wave of waterworks rushing through my tear ducts. I immediately sobbed out loud, allowing myself to be pulled into Peggy's arms as she hugged me through the tears. I buried my face in her shoulder to stifle the sound of me crying. It was downright embarrassing, and yet, nothing could hide the gaping despair I felt.

I was getting worse.

"I need help," I whispered into her shoulder.

Peggy only hugged me tighter. "I know, darling," she murmured back. "I know."


	11. Chapter 11

**PANDORA**

When Peggy and I just sauntered out of SHIELD headquarters, no questions asked, I was shocked. All this time, she was complaining about being trapped here when at any point in time, she literally could walk out the front door. There were no alarms blaring, no security guards chasing after us. We were free.

I took a double take behind us as we left the Triskelion behind, heading down the side streets of Washington D.C. I didn't say anything to her directly, of course. I was partially the reason she felt trapped in the building.

I wasn't about to ruin our budding friendship over a stupid question.

We stayed silent until she stopped in front of an older-looking church, a small smile appearing across her lips. I, on the other hand, was extremely confused. I considered myself a fairly religious person, more so before I became a federal agent, but I knew that I needed a lot more than a prayer to get me out of this.

"Are… you sure we're okay here?" I asked Peggy cautiously. The last thing I needed was to be walking into another trap. My trust in people was running dangerously thin.

Her smile only grew bigger as I asked the hesitant question. "Trust me, we're safe," she commented. "I've been here many times before."

That was news to me.

"What is this place?" I questioned again, not taking my eyes off of the church.

"A place where people like us get help."

That had to be the vaguest statement I heard emerge from her lips. I raised an eyebrow apprehensively as I followed her inside. The less broken part of me was seriously trying to figure out how exactly Peggy managed to walk out SHIELD headquarters several times without anyone noticing.

Glancing in her direction as she held the door open for me, I analyzed her appearance. She had her hair tied back in a loose ponytail but seeing her in modern day clothes still threw me for a loop. No wonder no one questioned her. She barely looked the same.

Peggy gestured further into the church, and I shuffled behind her. Maybe she had a point to all of this secrecy. That notion flew out of my head, however, when we reached the center of the church, and I stopped dead in my tracks.

There was a group of at least ten people sitting in a circle, smiling weakly towards each other as they greeted each other like old friends. The circle of chairs, the tired faces, the pamphlets… I knew exactly what this was.

Peggy ambushed me into a meeting.

I immediately spun around, a panicked look crossing my features. "Oh no," I blurted out, struggling to push past her and head back to the Triskelion. "I can't… I can't just share my life with these strangers."

I wasn't a normal person. I was a celebrity with a very prominent face due to the publicity of the Avengers. Everyone was going to know exactly who I was.

"No, it isn't like that," Peggy swore, gripping my shoulders to stay put. "These strangers have been through wars that we can only imagine." She sighed. "We all have nightmares, Pandora. We can help each other."

I didn't feel comforted in the slightest.

"Emily!

I had no clue who Emily was, but Peggy seemed to light up at the sound of the man's voice. She grinned wildly over my shoulder, all but forcing me to turn around.

A taller man approached us, an equal smile crossing his cheeks. From the way he was greeting the other people in the room, I guessed he was the one running the meeting. Judging solely from his build, if I had to guess, he belonged with the U.S. Army in Afghanistan.

I had a terrible feeling I was about to find out.

"Sam Wilson," Peggy greeted him with a hug. "How are you today?"

He didn't answer her question but instead dropped his gaze down to mine. "You brought your friend," he said, his gentle eyes searching mine for some sort of emotion.

I didn't give him the satisfaction of finding anything. He wasn't a shrink.

"I convinced her to come," Peggy commented as if I wasn't standing there. "She… she could use our help."

So much for leaving.

Sighing, I held out my hand towards the man Peggy called Sam, forcing a tiny smile on my lips. "Pandora Whitman," I introduced, shaking his hand. "Not a terrorist."

"I didn't think you were," Sam replied with a chuckle. "Especially not here. Besides, I already know who you are."

I raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Because I'm a superhero?" I had to question.

"Because Emily here won't shut up about you."

I quickly glanced over at Peggy in surprise, unsure whether to be annoyed or flattered. I settled for a mixture of both in my expression.

"Well, I'm Sam Wilson, the leader of this motley group," he teased, trying to force another smile on my face. It wasn't going to be that easy. "It is a pleasure to have you here, Pandora. Why don't you take a seat, and I'll introduce you to the rest of the group?"

I nodded slowly, finding it hard to do anything else. I waited until Sam headed back into the crowd of people before I turned back to Peggy.

"I'm not going to regret this, am I?" I snapped, already apprehensive of what she told these strangers about me.

"Let's hope."

That wasn't very convincing at all.

"And you're Emily now?" I added, questioning her choice of undercover names.

Peggy threw me a knowing look that clearly told me to shut my mouth. I didn't listen very well to directions such as those. "Well, I wasn't about to announce that Peggy Carter is back from the dead," she said.

"They don't recognize you."

It was more of a statement than a question, the facts of what I deduced earlier returning to the forefront of my brain. She was a completely different person now, and I was just realizing it. Shame on me.

"It's amazing what age can do to some people," she retorted with a thrill of laughter. "Peggy Carter no longer exists in this time period."

"And SHIELD is alright that you're here?" I asked the question that was looming over both of our heads.

Peggy sighed as she stared at her hands. "What SHIELD doesn't know won't kill them," she stated.

"I wouldn't be so certain," I pointed out, recalling the details of my field op. That was not SHIELD's best moment in time. If anything, it proved that the executives of SHIELD needed to know everything at all times. If Fury didn't know we were here, I would honestly be surprised.

He did always have a soft spot for the former director sitting next to me.

"Alright everybody."

Sam's voice jolted me back out of my thoughts and into the room around me. For the first time, I dared to glance at the others sitting in the circle of chairs, looking slightly less lost than I felt. That at least gave me hope for improvement. If they all came into this meeting feeling as shitty as I was, maybe there was hope for the future for me.

A slight maybe.

"Let's get started," Sam commented, earning everyone's attention. "We have a new member of our group here today. Agent Pandora Whitman." I nodded once curtly, keeping my eyes trained on Sam. Despite the reassuring beaming smile he was giving me, I felt the uneasy glances on the side of my face.

I didn't blame them.

I was young. I was naïve. I didn't belong here with these survivors.

"This is Tom, Robert, and Josh, veterans of the Korean War," Sam introduced. I reluctantly followed the nods around the circle to put a face to the names. "Henry, Judith, and Thomas are veterans of the Vietnam War. The rest of us – Kelsey, Amanda, Taylor, Will, myself, and of course Emily – are veterans of the Iraqi and Afghan wars. I have a feeling that we all know who you are, but why don't you introduce yourself anyway."

I bit my lip apprehensively, my gaze dropping back to my hands. "Okay, um, my name is Pandora Whitman, and I'm an agent for the United States government," I said softly. "But most of you probably know me as one of the Avengers that fought in the Battle of New York."

Sam leaned forward in his chair, that stupid look of reassurance still on his face. "Can you tell us why you're here, Pandora?" he asked.

Because I was forced to be.

Because I was falling apart.

Because I was losing my mind.

All were valid answers, but I had a feeling they were not the one Sam was looking for.

"Um, I was told that I need help," I finally responded honestly. "I mean, I do need help."

Apparently, that wasn't the correct answer either.

"We're all here because we suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder," he responded. "And from the looks of thing, so do you."

A part of me always knew what it was that I was going through, but hearing it out loud was something else entirely. My entire stomach flip-flopped, and I physically dug my nails into my arm to keep myself from welling up with tears. I had a real problem, one with possible permanent damage if I didn't get my shit together.

"PTSD?" I repeated, wanting to make sure I heard him correctly.

"It ranges in cases," Sam elaborated. "But from what Emily has shared about you-"

That was it. I turned to Peggy with a snap of my head, my rage only building. "You talked about my personal life?" I barked out.

Peggy opened and closed her mouth several times, looking for the right words to say with little success. Luckily, Sam saved her from making another mistake.

"Emily wanted to help you for so long," he put in, "and I'm glad you're finally here. We all want to help you, Pandora. Now, why don't you share your story, the one we don't know?"

I wasn't sure exactly what Peggy said about me, and I was sure that it was nothing that hadn't been said before. However, this was the first time I was talking about myself with the acknowledgement that I was suffering from a mental disorder with no solidified cure.

After a few floundering seconds, I did what I do best nowadays. I froze.

Sam immediately backtracked, sensing my hesitation. "Only if you want to, of course," he added. "This is an open and voluntary atmosphere."

"I just can't," I whispered, biting my lip even harder. I felt more alone than ever before with all of the pairs of eyes trained on me. I was alone and embarrassed.

I wasn't exactly sure when the others started talking as I was too busy beating myself up in my own head. I did my hardest to listen, but when I did, I felt even guiltier for taking up a seat in this place. Their stories were about death, war, survival, watching their partners die in an IED explosion, spending days in a jungle, just to start. I never had to suffer through anything like that.

I was in a war, yes, but my war was against an alien terrorist. The horror of the real world was so much worse.

With each new story that emerged into the open air, I found my chest constricting further and further until I could barely breathe. I was going to explode with remorse.

"Can I say something?" I blurted out, feeling the room's eyes back on me. "Please?" I added as an afterthought.

Sam gestured to the rest of the circle. "It's an open environment," he responded. "You can say whatever you'd like."

"I'm probably the youngest person to ever sit in on these meetings," I said. "You must hate me for being here, hell I hate myself for being here, because I claim to have seen war and death. But, I wasn't in a war. I wasn't even close, but I've seen things. I've experienced things that no other 26-year-old should have. I can't go back from that."

Sam shook his head. "Pandora, no one is judging you here," he uttered, but I knew it was a lie. He might have believed that himself, but I felt the judgmental stares from the rest of the group from the moment I walked into the room.

"Please, Sam," I begged to continue while I still had the strength to do so. "There are some days that I just want to go home, forget everything, start again, but I can't. Every time I close my eyes, I see… I have nightmares. I dream about everyone dying around me, and I'm helpless to do anything about it."

"It seems your PTSD is about the death of your loved ones," Sam observed, trying his hardest to shrink me. It wasn't going to be that easy.

"No."

I felt both Peggy and Sam recoil from the harshness of my tone of voice, but it wasn't entirely my fault. I had a lot to be sorry for, and it all stemmed from one person.

"In fact, I wish it was that simple," I added, my voice cracking. "It's about one person in particular." This was the part that was going to be hard, the part that I never told anyone else before. "My partner, Steve Rogers."

A hush fell across the room as I mentioned what seemed like a taboo name. Even if they were unfamiliar who I was, everyone knew who Captain America was. Here I was yet again, forever his sidekick. Maybe Fury was right.

Still, I owed myself the truth.

"I left him," I started to say. "After the Battle of New York, I left him. I left our partnership that worked so well, I left my best friend, and I left a part of myself back there too. I wanted to protect him… from me." I broke off, choking back a sob. "He's this immortal being with super strength, super healing, super whatever. He can survive a plane crash-" I broke off, remembering for the first time who my audience was.

I didn't dare look Peggy in the eyes as I spoke.

"And then, there's me. I'm a human being who's damn good with my guns and fists, and I want to help people almost as much as he does. But… that's it. There's going to be a mission that I don't come back from. There's going to be a day that I die, and he's already lost so much. Losing me would emotionally kill him. If I hurt him now, it would save him later. At least, that was my logic."

I paused for a moment, wiping away a few stray tears that leaked down my cheeks. "But, uh, that backfired," I continued. "Because I ended up hurting myself in the long run. Everywhere I go, I see his face. I hear his voice in my head constantly. I don't even know what's real anymore. But, um, I'm here now, and I need to get better. Not just for me, either."

I glanced up at the faces still gazing into my soul from around the room, and I was honestly shocked at how many sympathetic glances I was receiving. If my only two options were indifference and pity, I would choose pity. At least, I knew they cared about my stupid past.

"So, that's my story," I concluded, folding my hands together in my lip. "Thanks for, uh, listening, even though you didn't really have a choice. Sorry."

I earned a few sheepish chuckles for that. Okay, not a complete failure.

Sam waited until I dropped my gaze to my hands before checking his watch. A sigh erupted from his lips as he clapped his hands together, signaling the end of the meeting. I barely heard his concluding statements before I bolted to my feet, immediately booking it for the doors to the outside world.

I stood there on the sidewalk in front of the old church, letting the sunshine hit my skin. As much as I hated every second of telling my story to those strangers, I felt… lighter. For the first time, I knew when I opened my eyes, I wouldn't see Steve in front of me.

Maybe Peggy was right. Maybe I was on the right track to stability.

Those thoughts washed away as soon as I heard footsteps approaching me from behind. I breathed out a long exhale before turning around to face Peggy once more. I knew I should have expected the hurt look on her face, but it still stung, nonetheless.

"Peggy, don't."

She was about as good of a listener as I was.

"Why haven't you ever told me that story before?" she asked, her eyes searching mine for a clear answer. She wasn't going to get one.

"Because it hurts."

Peggy only raised an eyebrow. "And you think I don't feel pain every day?" she retorted. "You think I'm grateful to be standing here, not able to see the one person I want to? That I mourned for nothing?"

Biting my lip, I heaved a sigh, unsure of what to say to make Peggy feel relieved about my situation. I didn't tell her the truth because I was in the exact same position she was seventy years ago. Still, that was not the time to admit that.

"Peggy," I said softly. "You know why we can't tell him that you're here."

"No, I really don't," she responded, folding her arms across her chest. "So please, why don't you tell me?"

I tilted my head to one side in exasperation. "Peggy," I warned.

"I'm serious."

"So am I!" I cried, finally losing it. "So are we. We're SHIELD. We keep secrets, you know that better than anyone. If there's one thing I've learned in the past few days, it's that. It just so happens that you're our biggest secret right now."

She snorted with a toss of her head. I was the wrong person to be giving her SHIELD reprimands, it seemed. "And we keep our secrets all of the time, don't we?" she questioned sarcastically. "I don't need a lecture on SHIELD. I founded SHIELD, if you remember, and right now, I'm hiding in the basement instead of helping out like I was born to do. Excuse me for wanting an explanation."

"I don't make the rules," I said. "And, newsflash, SHIELD has changed."

"Are you sure this has to do with SHIELD and not your personal grudge against Steve?"

That was the last straw.

I was done playing nice. All of the good that I felt talking about Steve for once had already drained itself from my system. I was back at square one.

"Keeping you here was not my call to make," I snapped. "How dare you excuse-"

"I came into this world knowing nothing," she cut me off, unable to even let me even respond. "I didn't even know if SHIELD still existed. All I knew was that Steve was alive, and I needed to find him to let him know that I was too." She paused, shaking her head. "Instead, I found you."

I let out a quick exhale, collecting my thoughts together. The last thing I needed was to embarrass myself in public again. We definitely did not need attention drawn to us.

"Yeah, I bet you're regretting that right about now," I said, shaking my head in revulsion.

Peggy took a step back at my words, realizing what her words had done to me. In a matter of seconds, my good decisions at the meeting were completely reversed by her own wants and needs. I knew she was grieving and hurting just as much as I was, but I was done protecting other people.

It was time to protect myself.

"Pandora!" she called out at my retreating back, regret lacing her tone of voice.

I had no idea where I was going, but I needed to get far away from here.


	12. Chapter 12

**PANDORA**

I should have known better than to go running off in the streets of downtown Washington D.C. by myself. Since arriving here, I barely left SHIELD walls, and I had absolutely no idea where I was going.

Everything that happened next was on me.

I held one hand up to my eyes, wiping away the tears quicker than they could fall down my cheeks. The first rule about being a 20-something year old woman living in a big city was to never show any signs of weakness. I hated that this was the world we currently lived in, whether I was trained in self-defense or not.

Despite my best attempts, however, my eyes still blurred from the moisture welling up in my eyes. "You're fine," I chanted to myself over and over again. "It helped. It helped."

Truthfully, I felt a million tons lighter after speaking the truth out loud to Sam. It was the first time I actually admitted the real reason behind leaving Steve. Mental breakdown be damned, maybe therapy was actually worth it. Peggy's constant lectures, on the other hand, were not worth it.

Still, I couldn't run forever.

"Excuse me," I said, grabbing the arm of a random person walking past me. "What street is this?"

The man immediately shook his arm loose, giving me the dirtiest look imaginable. "Get lost!" he shouted, glaring in my direction as he tore down the street.

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "Well, I suppose SHIELD headquarters wouldn't be on Google Maps!" I shouted to no one in particular, not caring about the bizarre looks the civilians were giving me.

Shaking my head, I found myself walking a straight path down whichever street I was on. Eventually, I was going to come across something that looked familiar, or at least, that was what I convinced myself of.

The streets weren't as crowded as I was used to in New York, but unlike New York, everyone paid attention to everything here. I felt eyes on me from all angles as I maneuvered my way through people. In New York, I was used to bobbing and weaving through the crowds, no one paying me any mind. Here, I just felt uncomfortable.

After a shiver passed through my spine, I immediately turned right to an even less crowded street. I desperately needed some alone time to think. When the feeling didn't pass, I knew it was more than nosy neighbors wondering what a young woman was crying about. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw a singular man in a dark suit and tie walking about twenty paces behind me. He was trying his hardest not to stare in my direction, but I instantly knew he was the source of my discomfort.

I wasn't sure how long he had been following me for, but it was enough for me to pick up the pace just a hair. Another minute passed of continuous walking before I paused, pretending to glance in a store window. It was one of the first tricks I learned when studying surveillance at SHIELD. If the man behind me was truly tailing me, he would stop at a store window a few feet back and mimic my actions.

I took two deep breaths to calm my racing heart before slightly gazing to the side. Not only was the man stopped a few feet back, he now had two others alongside him. Time for Plan B.

Reaching into my pocket, I hit the power button on the side of my phone, turning it back on. I knew SHIELD had every agent's personal phone pinged for their location, and I only hoped that someone would notice the rapid movements I was about to make.

I removed my hand from my jacket pocket, immediately heading towards the crosswalk. Upon crossing to the other side of the street, I walked a few paces before crossing diagonally back to the same side of the street that I was just on a second before. This was their last chance to prove that it was a coincidence.

They failed the test.

All three men followed my exact street crossing patterns.

Shit.

I didn't waste another second before I broke into a sprint down the street, pushing past people in my way. I tried to weave through people as best as I could. However, these men were harder to shake than I initially thought. That only meant one thing: they were also highly trained like me.

Double shit.

I was looking over my shoulder when I rounded the corner to my right, expecting another route for me to run for my life down. I whipped my head back just in time to skid to a stop. I was not expecting to see at least twenty men in suits pointing a gun in my direction.

"What the-"

The words exploded from my lips without me realizing. How the heck did they know I would turn down this exact street at this exact moment? I barely knew where I was heading.

I took a few steps backward, but the men chasing me earlier finally caught up to me, blocking my exit. I spun around in a circle, my eyes desperately searching for something, anything, to assist with my escape. None of the men said a single word as they clicked back the release on their guns. This was no heist or tail, after all.

This was an execution.

I closed my eyes, expecting to feel a hundred bullets piercing my skin at once. Instead, I heard a screeching of tires, causing my eyes to fly open just in time to see a large black SUV barreling down at least ten of the men. I gaped at the scene unfolding in front of me. The events happening before me were becoming more unexpected by the second.

The passenger door to the SUV flew open a moment later, and Fury's face appeared in my flabbergasted vision. "Get in!" he practically shouted.

If I had hesitated for a second longer, I would have been dead.

I flung myself into the car, slamming the door shut behind me right as the men started to fire upon the car. I instinctively ducked, even though I knew Fury's car was bulletproof. He didn't waste time to throw his foot on the pedal and zoom out into the street I was sprinting down not minutes earlier.

"Why are these people trying to kill me?" I shouted, my hands wringing together.

I was still processing the fact that if Fury was thirty seconds late, I would have been a corpse for him to clean up. If I wasn't in shock before, I sure was now.

"They could be terrorists, they could be anti-Avengers, who knows," he said all too calmly before he glanced sternly in my direction. "You know, a little thank you wouldn't hurt."

I held my hands against my head, squeezing hard against my throbbing temples. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I panted, my breaths still coming in gasps. "Thank you. Seriously, thank you. I just… I have no idea what just happened."

"What the hell were you doing?" he snapped, his sour mood not improving after I thanked him.

"Walking," I said. "Or at least, I was trying to get back to HQ. But you know, I can't really plug in the GPS."

If Fury wanted to question where I was further, he seemed to agree that now was not the time. If twenty men on the street were ready to murder me, I knew that was hardly the end of them.

"Where's your gun?" he questioned.

"I left it back at SHIELD."

He threw me another incredulous glance. "Are you an idiot?" he asked in a deadpan tone.

"Quite possibly," I responded honestly. I really was an idiot for thinking I could get back on my own. "I was going somewhere where it might have been taken offensively."

"I have the feeling you're not going to tell me where that is," Fury said.

I chuckled, despite the very not funny situation we were now placed in. "You're absolutely right," I retorted.

Upon glancing over my shoulder behind the car, I saw two identical looking SUVs quickly approaching us. "Shit, they're persistent," I whispered, my fear rising once more.

A wince involuntarily passed through my system as I heard the bullets attempt to pierce the car's shell once more. This time, however, I could feel the car shake around me. They were getting closer to cracking us. Our time was running out.

"Why did you come… of all people?" I asked, hating the words as they came out of my mouth.

I expected a smart retort from Fury, but to my surprise, he only shrugged his shoulders. "Because I wasn't going to let one of my best agents die," he responded.

A shocked look crossed my features for a split second, his reply catching me completely off guard. He, of course, pretended not to notice and instead tossed a machine gun in my lap.

"You can be helpful."

"I, uh, thank you, I think," I stammered, unable to form any actual words. If I wasn't embarrassingly sobered up from the emotional stress of today, I wouldn't have believed my own ears. Fury actually cared about me.

I cleared my thoughts quickly before I leaned out the passenger side window, firing the gun at the cars tailing us. The bullets immediately cut through one of the car's windshield, causing them to swerve to one side, but the car next to them only fired back in my direction. Ducking inside the car for a moment, I took a deep breath before repeating my actions.

"We're taking too many hits!" I shouted back at Fury, assessing the damage done to the rear of the car. I wasn't sure how much longer his shields were going to last.

"You think?" he retorted, turning a corner aggressively.

I flew back inside the car just in time, tucking the gun between my legs. We desperately needed a new plan.

"These people are not just targeting the Avengers," I observed, wiping the dirt from my face. "They're targeting me." I bit my lip. "I don't know why."

"I wish I knew."

If Fury thought I missed the way he refused to look at me, he was wrong. There was something bigger going on here.

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you know, Director?" I questioned.

"I told you-" he started to say, but I literally didn't have time for this.

"If we're about to die," I interrupted. "I would like to know who's killing me and why."

Fury sighed. "I investigated some files," he said vaguely. "Someone high up in the ranks of SHIELD is betraying us."

"Betraying us how?" I asked. "Aren't you the highest up in SHIELD anyway?"

Another large round of bullets hit the side and rear ends of the car, physically shaking us as we turned another corner. If someone didn't do something fast, we were done for. With Fury behind the wheel, that only left me.

Grabbing the gun from the floor once more, I rolled the window all of the way down, taking one more deep breath. I was actually insane for considering this, but my options were growing more limited by the second.

I climbed out of the window, leaving one foot on the seat of the chair and praying that Fury was driving safely for at least the next thirty seconds. This time, instead of the cars themselves, I aimed for the wheels. The front tires instantly blew from the front car, sending it spiraling off to the side. Apparently, luck was on my side as the second car slammed on the brakes too late, crashing into the first car. A fiery inferno erupted behind me as I all but dove back into the car.

A small smile crossed my face at the tiny victory, but I knew that the danger hadn't completely passed yet. If Fury was right about SHIELD, we weren't safe there. We weren't safe anywhere.

"What does all of this mean?" I asked again, hoping I bought us some time for Fury to at least answer my question.

To my dismay, he only shook his head. "I don't have time to explain it all right now," he said. "Just… don't trust anyone."

I gave him one last pleading glance as he finally turned his head and focused his one good eye directly on me. "You're not making any sense," I begged. "Please."

My eyes quickly darted back to the road ahead, expecting to see cars swerving out of our way. Instead, I saw one man standing dead set in the middle of the street, pointing a very large gun in our direction.

"Look out!" I cried, grabbing the wheel in an attempt to swerve the car to the side. Either this guy had a death wish, or he was another man hired to kill us.

I got my answer when he shot a device underneath our car, immediately attaching to the belly of our vehicle. I scrambled back in my seat, praying that my seatbelt was enough to save me from whatever was coming next. As it turned out, I had the right idea.

An explosive sound erupted from underneath, sending Fury's car flying into the air backside first. I scrabbled for anything that I could hold onto in this time, not even bothering to care that my machine gun flew out the cracked window. If we survived this day, I had faith that we could survive whatever was coming next.

The car crunched as we landed roof-down on the street, skidding a few more inches before coming to a halt. I groaned, feeling blood trickle down the side of my face. I was alive, that was one good thing. How long that was going to last was a completely different question.

"Shit, that hurt."

I frantically pressed down on the seatbelt release, trying to release myself from my restraints that just saved my life. Glancing over in Fury's direction, I sighed in relief when I found him injured but still alive.

For now.

"Sir, it's now or never," I whispered, a pleading look coming over my face.

I was sure the both of us heard the footsteps of our latest assassin approaching from the front area of the car. We were running out of time.

That was why it physically broke my heart to see Fury turn to me with a saddened expression on his face. Genuine sorrow was the last emotion I read before the driver's side door was ripped off from the car, tossed to the side like a rag doll. I only saw the black boots of our assailant standing next to where Fury just unbuckled his seatbelt. I should have known what was coming next.

I didn't even hear the gunshot.

A red spot began to blossom on his chest a moment later, jolting me back to reality. "No," I begged, fear clouding my vision. I wasn't sure if it was that same fear that caused me to kick open the car door, grab a handgun from the glove box, and scramble to my feet all in the same second, but I knew it wasn't fear I felt when I stared down the assassin.

I recognized the caliber of gun he was pointing in my direction, and I knew that we both came to the same conclusion that if we both fired our guns, I would be dead before the bullet barely left the barrel of my gun. Still, I didn't waiver in my grip.

"Who the hell are you?" I spat, venom lacing my tone.

Angry tears pricked at the corners of my eyes the longer I stood there in silence. In a few seconds, I knew I was about to end up in the same situation Fury was currently in. No one would be around to save us. If Fury wasn't dead already, he was in the process of bleeding out.

A sob threatened to explode from my body, and I knew, for certain this time, that it was fear alone that was driving my actions. It seemed the assassin learned my fight or flight response.

I blinked away the tears rapidly, and I barely believed what I saw in front of me.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing. The assassin faded away like the smoke surrounding us.

He left me to live, and I wasn't sure if that was the stupidest thing he'd ever done or the smartest. He left me alive for a reason. That alone was dangerous enough.

I held my gun in position for another second, verifying that this wasn't a ruse, before I dropped the weapon to the cement and rushed over to Fury's side.

"Come on, Nick," I pleaded, ripping open his jacket to try and find the bullet. "Stay with me, please."

The amount of blood that was pouring out from the wound was alarming, and I knew we didn't have much longer. I frantically pressed my hands hard against the hole in his chest, unsure of what else to do. We were only trained so much in paramedic work.

"Oh my God," I swore, the tears spilling down my cheeks now. "This is all my fault. Please stay with me."

I swiveled my head around, able to see more of my surroundings now that the smoke was clearing away. The assassin was really gone, but that alarming thought was for another time. Now, I needed assistance, and I needed it immediately.

"Help!" I shouted, my voice cracking at the volume I was shrieking. "Someone please help! Help!"

I wasn't sure how long it took for someone to find us, but the red blood stains on my hands were evidence enough. I didn't even remember walking from the ambulance to the hospital's secure floor. The numbness that I felt in my entire body was enough to keep me sedated.

I was most certainly a mess. My hands and arms were completely covered in Fury's now dried blood, I still had a nasty gash near my hairline from the car crash itself, and the amount of gunpowder and smoke that covered my clothes was definitely cause for concern. Still, I refused for anyone to look at me until I knew what Fury's fate was.

My hopes weren't too high.

I couldn't remember when Peggy arrived at the scene. My legs were cramping from sitting on the floor of the hospital room, holding my head in my hands. I knew it had been hours since they took Fury into surgery, and I hadn't moved since they started.

I didn't look up when I heard the door to our room bang open again.

"Who did this to him?" demanded a familiar voice.

I lifted one hand away from my face, spying a blurry Natasha in my vision. A fresh tidal wave of guilt washed through my system as I realized the last thing I said to her and Peggy both was inconsiderate. They both wanted to help me, and I pushed them away. It was what I did best, evidently.

"Pandora saw it, not me," Peggy responded, not taking her eyes away from the surgery happening just a glass panel away.

I heard Natasha kneel down beside me. "Pandora?" she questioned, concern creeping up in her voice. "Please, you have to talk to us about what happened."

"What happened was that I failed to protect our director," I retorted.

"That's not what happened," Natasha responded, not even entertaining my pitiful thoughts. "Tell me about the shooter."

He left me to live.

"Fast," I said in short terms. "Strong." He left me to _live_. "Had a metal arm." Why did he leave me standing when the rest of the assailants clearly wanted me dead? "No rifling on slugs. Untraceable." Why was I still alive?

Natasha tilted her head to one side, putting the profile together. "Soviet made slugs?" she questioned.

"Yeah," I answered weakly. "I could have stopped it."

Peggy shook her head. "Pandora, this wasn't your fault," she repeated.

It was at least the third time I heard it in the past few hours, and yet, it still didn't make me feel an ounce better. I was supposed to be a better agent than this. I was the agent who let Fury die on my watch.

I heard the surgeons and nurses clambering about in the other room, but I didn't have the stomach to watch anymore. Fury said I was one of the best agents he ever knew, and I let him die right in front of me. I was going to be sick.

I stood up, grabbing onto the counter for support right as the doctors were stepping away from the operating table. That only meant one thing.

"What's the time?"

"6:03."

"Time of death. 6:03pm."

Bile rose up in the back of my throat, and I actively swallowed it back down. I was really about to lose it. I ran my hands through my hair, not caring how much blood I just spread in my red locks. I wanted so badly to yank it all out.

"This is my fault," I insisted, panic intensifying in my chest. I was either going to throw up, have a heart attack, or go through the worst anxiety attack I ever witnessed. None of the options were great. "If I hadn't been so stupid-"

Peggy instantly stepped forward, grabbing my arms and forcing me to look at her. "If you hadn't run off, maybe Director Fury would still be alive," she said as if she took the words right from my thoughts. "Possibly, but we'll never know. You can't do this to yourself."

She was trying her best to hold back her emotions, but when I glanced to the side and saw how close Natasha was to losing it, I was done for. I shook off Peggy's grip, shaking my head in despair.

"If I can't even protect our Director, I shouldn't be a SHIELD agent," I concluded, unable to hold it together anymore.

I felt like I couldn't breathe any longer in this room. Yanking open the door, I headed into the hallway of the hospital. I knew I was probably getting several concerned glances at the state of my appearance, but that was the last thing on my mind. Between the assassin himself, the secrets Fury was keeping from me, and the loss of Fury himself, my brain was about to explode.

If I made it through today without a psychotic breakdown, it would be a miracle.

I glanced up from the ground at the sound of footsteps heading directly towards me. My body froze up in an all-too familiar way as I laid eyes on the person walking towards me. A chuckle almost exploded from my lips before I contained it.

One psychotic breakdown coming right up.

I couldn't move my body in any direction, but I still shook my head frantically in an attempt to dispel the karma standing before me. My brain worked in hilarious manners sometimes.

"Not here," I pleaded with my inner PTSD. "Not now, please."

I tried my hardest to recall Sam's teachings during the meeting about containing our thoughts instead of pushing them away. If I accepted that Steve Rogers was a figment of my imagination, there was a possibility that he would stop torturing me. Or rather, my brain would stop torturing me.

A tiny weight lifted off my chest at the thought of controlling at least one thing in my life right now. That was one thing I was semi-learning to manage.

"Captain Rogers," a nurse called from the side. "If you came to say goodbye to your friend…"

The nurse's voice faded into the background as her words sent a new chill through my body, this one straight to my bones. She called Steve's name. She was staring straight at Steve. She was telling him to say goodbye to Fury.

That only meant one thing.

This Steve that was standing in front of me wasn't the Steve from my imagination.

Recognition slowly dawned on my face. I finally dared to look up in his eyes, no longer finding the warmth and kindness that used to be there. I thought about this moment ever since I left him behind in New York – about what I would do, what I would say, how I would react. And yet, nothing prepared me for this. I was completely frozen.

Steve only sighed. "Hello, Pandora."

* * *

**A/N: **AH SHOOT. I'm emo already. How do you think this one is going to go? See you on Wednesday for an update.


	13. Chapter 13

**PANDORA**

"Hello, Pandora."

His tone was so cool, I seriously thought it was my brain playing another trick on me. This was exactly the way he acted and sounded in my hallucinations. Yet, here he was, live and in person. This was physically too much for me to handle right now.

"My God," he said again, finally looking over my appearance. "Are you alright? You're covered in more blood than not."

As he moved his hand to touch my shoulder, I violently flinched, jumping a few inches away from him. If he physically contacted me, it would become permanent. I wasn't here for that.

I knew I looked like a disaster and a half from the dried blood on my hands and clothes from Fury's incident, the wound on my head and shoulder that still hadn't been looked at yet, and the blood I recently caked through my hair. Still, I didn't need his concern. I didn't need anyone's concern.

"No."

Steve seemed shocked by my aggressive reaction to the simplest of actions, but he knew nothing about me anymore. "This can't be real," I said more softly, shaking my head as I refused to make eye contact with him. "I can't do this right now."

I spun on my heels, my hands shaking fiercely, as I headed back into the room I just stormed out of. Closing the door behind me, I immediately sunk back down to the ground, my eyes darting around wildly. Peggy and Natasha both turned to look at me, not expecting to see me back so soon and in a worse state than when I left.

Natasha, however, seemed to already know the cause of what upset me.

"Pandora," she said, heaving a large sigh. "He heard the news."

I glanced up at her, contempt shining in my pupils. "No, he doesn't belong here," I snapped.

"Nick was his friend too," she tried to argue, but I wasn't in the mood to listen.

"Fury didn't have friends."

Natasha sighed again, turning towards Peggy nervously. "Well, I'm not going to send him away after he traveled here from New York," she retorted.

From the look she was giving Peggy, I had a feeling I wasn't the only one who was being kept in the dark yet again. Unsurprisingly, it didn't make me feel any better.

"Then, lock me up with her!" I cried, tilting my head towards Peggy. "I don't want to be a part of this."

I knew my tone was harsh and unforgiving, especially towards Natasha of all people. What I wasn't expecting was to be manhandled by her. My breath was slammed out of me as she hauled me to my feet by one arm and slammed my back against the wall. Color me shocked.

"Stop being a little bitch," she hissed, all of her anger rising to the surface. "The world does not revolve around Pandora Whitman."

Even Peggy looked surprised at her actions. She took a step forward nervously, reaching out to touch Natasha's shoulder. We were all on edge, I couldn't argue with that, but it still didn't stop my rage from reaching a similar boiling point as Natasha's.

"Did you even tell Peggy that you invited her boyfriend here?" I snapped back at my mentor.

That seemed to shake Natasha out of her reverie. She let go of my arm, a confused expression crossing her face instead. "What the hell happened between you two?" she inquired for the first time since I moved to D.C.

Fury's death spooked her. That was the only reason she was acting like this, and I knew it. Still, I was spooked too. A person I never thought I would see again was standing mere feet on the other side of this door. These were trying times. Nonetheless, it didn't give her any right to know any more about my personal life than I was willing to share. I already told Sam, Peggy, and the rest of those survivors in the meeting too much.

"It's complicated," was all I said.

"Then uncomplicate it," she responded without hesitation. "You two used to be inseparable. It needs to be that way again if we're going to figure out how to get through this."

Her words stung. I hated the way they made me feel, but I knew there was no physical way I could get to my feet and walk out that door again. Natasha left, Peggy was probably two seconds away from following her, and I was left behind. I was always the one left behind.

It took me several seconds to realize that Peggy was still standing there, keeping her respectful distance from me. Nevertheless, she was still here.

I raised an eyebrow in her direction as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. "What are you waiting for?" I questioned, gesturing towards the open door where Natasha just exited.

Peggy sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "If you really think I'm going to leave you here to have another anxiety attack, you don't know me at all," she said softly.

A hint of a smile crossed my lips, despite the crushing feeling that was still blossoming in my chest. All Peggy talked about since I met her was finding Steve, and now that he was inches away from her, she stayed here with me instead. A lone tear made its way down my cheek the longer I stared at her.

"Peggy, I'm so sorry," I blurted out, a sob threatening to take over. "Thank you-"

She shook her head, taking her hands in mine. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up," she replied softly. She didn't have to acknowledge my apology. I knew she heard it.

"I'm going to need more than a shower," I said with a sad chuckle.

Peggy squeezed my hand, forcing a smile on her own face. "I know."

As suspected, the shower barely helped to contain all of the feelings that were about to burst out from my chest. I heaved another deep breath, trying to wrap my head around everything that happened in the past couple of hours.

"This is real, Panda," I said to myself. "It's time to get your mind in check."

No more psychotic breakdowns.

I pulled up my hood over my head as I headed out of my room and down the hallway. All I wanted to do was head into the gym, beat the crap out of some punching bags, and get back to my room without anyone talking to me. I had severe doubts that it was possible.

Upon rounding the corner, I knew my suspicions were correct. I immediately ducked back down the hallway in which I just came from, my heart pounding in my chest. Not only was it people that I didn't wish to speak to, it was the two people I most certainly wasn't interested in speaking to.

I only hoped that Steve and Natasha didn't see me before I saw them.

"Steve, you were always the better person," Natasha was saying in a hushed tone. "Are you really still going to act like this?"

I imagined the look on Steve's face was answer enough to Natasha's question. "You don't know what happened between us," he commented.

"Maybe it's time I was filled in."

"No, it's personal. It's not what you think."

Wincing, I resisted the urge to bang my head against the wall. This was not helping my sanity levels, and I already promised myself not to go through another breakdown. At least, not until tomorrow.

"Then what, Steve?" Natasha retorted. "Because she's going crazy, literally. I've seen her in her… mental state, and it's not healthy. Now, she just witnessed the death of our director. You're the only person who can do something."

That simply wasn't true. No one was able to save me from myself now.

"She made it perfectly clear when she left that she could handle herself," Steve said. He wasn't wrong there. I did say those things, even if they weren't true. "She doesn't need me. I came here to pay my respects, and then, I'm going back to New York."

Natasha's persistency was admirable, and on any other day, I would have applauded that fact. Today, however, the subject was me.

"And what if she died alongside Nick?" Natasha questioned. "What would you do then?"

"That was what she was counting on."

I was almost positive Natasha's shocked expression matched my own. That was the worst part of the speech I gave him back in New York, and of course, that was the part he remembered best. Still, I told myself that whatever Steve thought of me wasn't as bad as what I had been picturing over the past year.

"She told me that there was going to be a mission that she doesn't come back from," he said in the calmest tone of voice imaginable. "I've spent this past year preparing for that."

Okay, I was wrong. It was worse.

"Steve," Natasha said softly. If Natasha was quietly recognizing how cold Steve was, I knew it wasn't just me. Damn.

"I did what you asked," Steve retorted. "I said hello, and now I'm done."

Despite the harshness of his statement, I detected a hint of sadness behind Steve's tone of voice. He was still hurt from my actions, and to be perfectly honest, I didn't blame him. I didn't blame him one bit.

If I was in Steve's shoes, I wouldn't forgive me either.

"Steve," Natasha tried to argue again. "She's broken without you."

Steve let out a cracked chuckle. "She brought that on herself," he stated simply.

I heaved a deeper sigh, working up the courage to turn back the way I came and forget that I ever overheard this conversation. My cell phone decided to ring at the exact moment that I peeled myself away from the wall. I immediately froze in place, scrambling to switch it off without bothering to see who was trying to contact me.

"Shit," I swore under my breath.

I was busted.

Exhaling, I stepped out from around the corner, trying my absolute hardest not to look as frazzled as I felt. I wasn't about to prove that Steve was right, even though I knew he was.

"Pandora," Natasha said, throwing me a sympathetic glance.

I held up one hand, ignoring the looks on both of their faces. "I don't want to hear it, please," I begged. I turned my steely gaze back on Steve who had an equally callous expression. "After all, you're fine without ever seeing me again, right?"

The pair continued to stare at me as if they were in disbelief that I actually witnessed the majority of their conversation. If it helped, I was in disbelief too.

"It's easy for you to say," I continued, shrugging my shoulders in a desperate attempt to hold back more tears. "You don't have to see me every day, Steve." Angrily, I pressed my index finger to the side of my forehead. "I do."

I didn't wait for their reactions to my comment as I spun on my heels and stormed off in the opposite direction. I promised myself that I wasn't going to get worked up over any of this anymore, but I had a pretty rough couple of days. Completely leaving out the fact that Fury died not even twelve hours ago, I was diagnosed with PTSD, chased by around a hundred unknown assassins, got a row of stitches in my forehead, and came face to face with the one person I hurt the most.

Today sucked.

I banged open the door to a room down the hall, focusing on my breathing. I couldn't afford to lose it again, even if it was acceptable under these circumstances.

"Hey!"

A hand slipped in between the door frame and the door before it swung shut behind me. I inwardly groaned, regretting leaving my bedroom with each passing minute. Luckily, it was just Sharon who wormed her way into the room behind me.

So much for hitting the gym.

"Are you alright?" she asked me, her eyes raking over my body as if she were searching for injuries.

I had to laugh at her question. "Are you really asking me that?" I retorted with a raised eyebrow.

She exhaled softly. "Wrong question, I know," she said. "I'm so sorry, Pandora. I really am. You've been through so much, and I'm not sure I can talk you off this edge-"

"It's fine."

Sharon seemed surprised that I would cut her off so easily, but given my current mood, I was in no position to play nice. She continued to stare at me for another second, her face betraying her emotions. She was internally debating if she wanted to ask her next question or not.

I silently begged her not to.

"I know this is hardly the time," she started to say. I resisted a groan. "Director Pierce wants to see you."

I was wrong. It wasn't a question at all but another request. I definitely should not have left my room this afternoon.

"Who?"

"Alexander Pierce," she explained. "Fury's replacement."

I shook my head in clear disbelief. As much as I knew this was the way of SHIELD, the words still agitated me. "What about Peggy?" I countered. "She's still the Director too, technically."

"Unless you plan on announcing that she's returned from the dead," Sharon pointed out. "I doubt that's going to fly."

I rolled my eyes. "Sharon," I said. This was clearly not the time for sarcasm.

"Not my orders!" she retorted, finally throwing her hands in the air in defeat. She turned around, placing one hand on the door handle. "Just try to put on a nicer face, alright? He's not the kind of guy you want to mess with."

I tilted my head to one side at her phrasing. "Neither was Fury, but he's dead all the same," I responded in a deadpan tone of voice.

Sharon only sighed as she finally left me alone to my thoughts. Only this was not what I had in mind at all.

I was in no position to be defending my actions as a SHIELD agent to our supposed new Director. His name sounded vaguely familiar, but I wasn't in the right state of mind to think too hard about it. If Sharon felt threatened by this Pierce guy, I needed a clear headspace before talking with him.

Hot tempered or not, one wrong word to Pierce meant the possible end of my career.

* * *

**A/N: **I left you on a cliffhanger whoops. How are we feeling Steve x Pandora fans? Or should I say team Standora? :')


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